


Heartbeats

by LeeMorrigan



Category: Dominion (TV), Legion (2010)
Genre: F/M, Follows Michael through time, Heartbeats, Michael has an excellent memory, Michael just needs some love, Multi, Very little dialogue at first, cardiophile, mild swearing, no real smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 19:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20662184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeMorrigan/pseuds/LeeMorrigan
Summary: Michael had always believed there to be something special about human heartbeats. They revealed so much of a person and were so unique, if you listened. Over the millennia, Michael has taken many lovers and learned many heartbeats - as well as a few heartbeats that belonged to those he cherished as warriors, mothers, friends, and family. And now, four heartbeats have become his whole world. Noma: traitor turned protector. Alex:The son he never thought to have. Gabriel: His yang, his twin, his greatest equal. And a new heartbeat, one that might come to be as important to Father's Plan, as Alex's.





	1. Hearts I Once Knew

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger: So far, nothing that wasn't in the show/movie. Discusses cancer, desiring a family, Alex's birth, isolation, and Michael's lovers (nothing too graphic, I swear- he mostly focuses on their heartbeats).
> 
> There is a deaf character, loosely inspired by someone I knew in a Sign Language class, years ago. This is another one of my weird ideas of where a third season might have taken our heroes. 
> 
> The heartbeat idea is based off a prompt/idea on Tumblr, posed by SWEETONMECLARENCE quite some time ago. 
> 
> Please enjoy, and thank you for reading!

**Cardiophile**:  
a person who enjoys or is obsessed with the heartbeat, the feel of a heartbeat, and/or the sound of a heartbeat.

Michael could not number the centuries he had existed. In the beginning, when there was just him, Gabriel, and Father, he had not been aware of time. He supposed that it did not truly exist then. There was no Earth, no universe turning, no sunsets to count. There had only been his family and his own consciousness. Nothing yet existed to denote the passage of time. Then Father made the world and all that He put on it and around it.

The sun rose and set ceaselessly. The world spun ever and ever more. Oceans swelled and tossed, then shrank and calmed, only to repeat the cycle in a few centuries. The world froze over many times and thawed in a beautiful cascade of green and life. Fish, birds, insects, and more came forth. The world vibrated with virility. It glowed nearly as brightly as the sun that fed so much of this life.

From beyond, Michael, his brothers, and his sisters stood watching. Sometimes they interceded on their own, many times Father tasked them with helping his favored creation: Mankind. They were flawed, simple, fledglings. Father loved them dearly. Michael had been the first to bow to them, swearing to protect them as Father saw fit. The others did the same, in time.

This was not to say that Father had not sometimes tasked them with being the rod He did not spare his favored children from. Michael, more so than any of the others, had enjoyed that task far too well. He could still remember the feeling coursing through him as the hot, red blood spilled from those he had slain, to fall into the fresh, virgin snow. The smell as the steam rose up, hot blood meeting frozen powder. It was intoxicating and Michael reveled in it. Until Gabriel and Uriel had stopped him, till a small orphan boy had shown him different. Till he learned to cherish these mortals much as his Father had wished he and his brethren to since He had created the fledgling species.

After that, Michael sought only to do as he should have all along: Protect his Father’s favored creation. The mortals, so unaware of the greatness around them, taking for granted so much, ruining the gifts Father had given them. Michael knew his fellow angels were bitter about this and often groused about it, yet he knew in their own way they were no better. For all that Father had given them, they stood jealous over their weaker brethren.

In all of those millennia, Michael had never lacked for company. Even at his most blood-thirsty, there had been one thing he took more enjoyment from than killing mortals. The pleasures of the flesh, the feeling of worshiping a fragile mortal and being worshiped in turn, the intimate dance and tangle of flesh. Gabriel had dallied occasionally and even their eldest brother had enjoyed this same sin, yet none enjoyed it with the relish or frequency that Michael did.

He remembered the first. She had been a shy, skittish creature. Michael had appeared before her in all his angelic glory. Wings unfurled, his markings covering him from his neck to his ankles, armor gleaming in the sun. She had fallen prostrate before him, pleading in her native tongue for him to spare her from his wrath. Angels had that effect, back then.

She had been so lovely, Michael could not have imagined raising a blade to her. Her hair had been dark and gleaming in the fading sunlight, her hands calloused from a lifetime of work, faint lines around the corners of her eyes gave away that she was no child. Her figure was quite pleasing, filling out the drab beige cloth she wore, in all the right ways.

Michael had gathered her up in his arms, leading her back to her home and placing her in the bed, such as it was. He then left. He had watched the mortals and knew the game. For the next several days, he helped the little mortal woman to do the tasks needed to sustain herself in the barren land she called her home. Her eyes, a peculiar shade of greenish-brown with flecks of gold, had been the most memorable of her beautiful features.

He often caught those eyes following him as he worked. The tasks were mind-numbingly boring, and with his strength they were so easy that he could not even enjoy the exertion of the work. He did enjoy seeing how she watched him, seeing her pupils widen when he would move in ways that showed his broad shoulders or his strength. He was hardly blind to the ways he might attract such attention.

His seventh night at her home, she invited him inside to sleep near her fire rather than in the cave where she kept her goats. He came in, enjoying some food and drink with her before she taught him a game and they played a while, till she undressed herself for bed. Many slept nude then, especially with their homes still so hot from the day’s sun. She had been beautiful. More so than he imagined when seeing her clothed.

She beckoned him to join her. Michael had not needed to be asked twice. He had made love to her that night, and all through the night till he could tell she needed rest. As an angel, his stamina for nearly all things, was far beyond that of any human. It was part of why he could take such a beating and survive when a human would not have born the sheer pain of the beating itself. In the wake of their love making, Michael lay beside her, feigning sleep. Even then, Michael had been aware that his staying awake most of the night was something that put humans ill at ease. She had moved to rest on his chest, and where Michael’s hand landed as they first finished their marathon of carnal worship, he felt something below the hand he held to her back. A rhythm.

Michael took a moment to realize what he was feeling. Her heartbeat. It was still thrilling as she came down from her high. He could feel it, even with the rise and fall of her chest with every gasping breath, as she fought to come down to earth again. And later, as she caught her breath and fell fast asleep, Michael could still feel it. Bah-bum. Bah-bum. Bah-bum

He laid there, afraid to move lest he disturb her, never moving his hand. He felt… _entranced_. Such a simple thing. This mortal heart, so fragile, yet humming with life. There was a power there that Michael thought might be all the stronger for the fact that it was a mortal heart. The only other heartbeat he could remember paying any attention was that of his twin, Gabriel. A heartbeat he knew better than he knew his own name.

Michael stayed for days, working beside the woman in the day and worshiping her strong, beautiful form every night. He should have known better than to become attached. Gabriel arrived soon after, bearing news of a task Father had for them. Something that required his Sword and Heart. Michael had said his goodbyes and promised to return soon. She had smiled tearfully, leaning to wrap her thin arms around him, holding him close. He could faintly hear her heartbeat over the wind and the sound of her making him promise to be careful. He offered her the promise, thinking little of it. What harm could come to an Archangel such as himself, when his twin was at his side?

Michael flew away with Gabriel and they went to their task. A grueling, terrible task. Michael tried not to think of it, even now. When at last they were done, he flew back to the little farm, intent to erase those memories with new ones of his little mortal. When he arrived, he saw an unexpected sight. Four women were leaving the hut his lover called home, and trailing behind them was a little boy with a wild tangle of curls and bright gold-green eyes. Michael made sure to hide his wings, allowing the women to think him a mortal traveler. He asked who lived there, and they told him of a man and his wife who lived there, their daughter-in-law having just gifted them with another grandchild while her husband was at war.

Michael had gone in, intending to see if his little mortal was the new mother, and to offer congratulations, only to realize too late that he had assumed wrongly. A beautiful young woman with a mess of curls, laid out holding a small infant in her tanned arms, a young girl a little older than the boy he had seen outside, perched on the edge of her mother’s childbed. The young mother asked Michael who he was and what he was doing there.

Michael had tried to explain he had been traveling and used to know a woman who lived in the area, apologizing as he explained he must have been mistaken about where exactly his friend lived, and offering a friendly blessing to the mother and new babe, when he heard a familiar heartbeat. Bah-bum. Bah-bum. Bah-bum.

Looking up, Michael was greeted by a weathered but beautiful face, white hair falling in gleaming waves, and green-brown eyes with flecks of gold. He would have known her anywhere. Her face lost a few shades as she got a good look at him. He smiled, even as clench in his chest that he was unfamiliar with, stole his breath.

She had asked him to leave, showing him out personally. At the gate near her goat pen, she stopped him. She explained, as one might explain committing a great sin, that she had waited nearly two years for him before she married a goat herder and having their daughter, then four sons, and that her daughter-in-law had come to stay with her until she had the baby, as they were all the family still about due to the war. She asked Michael why he came back after all this time, leaving him to tell her the truth. That he had lost track of time. She had smiled indulgently, then moved to kiss him just as she had before he left the last time.

“You promised to be careful, you did not promise to return and make a life with me. Go, my angel. I thank you for our time and for returning to check on me. You have no reason to feel guilty, I have lived a good and full life that I have loved, now it is your turn. Fly.”

He nodded, kissing her once more before flying off, the sound of his own wings drowning out the sound of her heartbeat. Bah-bum. Bah-bum. Bah-bum.

Then, perhaps a century or so later, it was hard to recall, Michael had taken another lover. Tall, lithe, and with sparkling charcoal eyes. Michael could nolonger recall his lover’s name, just their heartbeat. Bah-tum. Bah-tum. Bah-tum. Rapid, full, so very vibrant and alive. In a country no map ever held the name of, under stars that had burned out centuries earlier, they delighted in carnal worship for months until Uriel came to retrieve her wayward brother. Michael asked for one last night, allowing himself to lay in bed with his lover, listening to that rapid, full, vibrant heartbeat.

Shortly thereafter, he decided that perhaps Uriel’s approach to mortal lovers, was a better idea. Groups. These mortals tired so easily compared to the archangels that it seemed only logical to take multiple lovers at once. There were many places, in those old and forgotten cities from pre-history, for an angel to gather a group who pleased him. He was impressively tall, well-muscled, educated, dangerous, and powerful. No woman appeared inclined to resist his charms, such as they were.

In the wake of that first night with his lovers, he listened as they rested. All the different heartbeats. The light-haired girl with the petite frame, her heart sluggish and somewhat erratic. There was a girl with the most exquisite posterior and a wicked smile, whose heart reminded him of the gallop of a prideful horse. A third girl, with a curvatious figure and freckles across her dark shoulders, had a steady, strong heartbeat akin to the pounding waves ahead of a storm.

Michael laid there for hours, listening to their heartbeats. He had learned, in his time with humans, to know when they woke, when they slept, when they were alarmed, when they were thrilled, and when they were sick, by the beat of that vital organ. He could read so much from the slightest change in the sound. The hearts of his fellow angels did not give so much away. A pity, he sometimes thought, given how much one could read of a human when listening to that little bundle of muscle.

In what the history books would remember as the first days of the great Egyptian Empire, Michael had found an especially exciting partner. She had been exceptionally tall for the day, standing half a head above most of the men she encountered. Skilled in weaponry, as well as being an excellent horseman, she had been the beloved daughter of an unconventional scholar. One who could afford to indulge his daughter with horses, fine clothes, jewelry, and education. She had been witty, willful, and wonderfully uninhibited. They made love under the moon in the desert, they raced sandstorms back to her home, they traded blows with swords in a practice ring, they wrestled, they sailed along the Nile, and they dueled intellectually over politics, philosophy, art, and battle strategy.

Her heartbeat had been steady and strong, sometimes sounding like thunder in his ears when they made love, and catching his attention even in the most vast of temples during a feast. Her eyes had been a smokey grey-brown color, depending on her mood, and he could read them like a note written in his own hand. She had been beautiful in a way that drew the attention of all who met her, even if her height, intelligence, and proud manner tended to scare away any suitors. She had claimed she was glad to live a life free of the burdens of marriage and motherhood.

Then, one evening, Michael had heard her heartbeat as it began to change. It shifted and he recognized the change just as he caught the smell of salt water in the air. She was crying. Someone had hurt her, he thought. He sought her out. She had stood in a palace garden watching one of her ladies in waiting, as the woman played with her young son in a game akin to Marbles. Michael had come up behind his lover, inquiring quietly about what had upset her. He had been ready to throttle, or kill, whomever had broken her heart.

“Have you ever wondered of children, Michael? Of what it might be like to hold one in your arms, knowing you would move the sun itself to protect that child? To watch the child grow in wisdom and kindness, to become everything that is good in a man? To see her joy in the simple things that the grown have come to take for granted?”

He shook his head, honestly having never given such things any consideration. He was an angel. Angels did not have families the way mortals did. They were capable, it just was not done. They had more important work, as he understood it at the time.

“Michael, I want that. All my life I have had everything I have ever wanted, that my father could purchase. What I want most, is unattainable. A husband to respect and love me, a child to raise to be the best of me and the father, to watch the world anew in their eyes and to spend the length of my days with my beloved.”

She had turned to him, her eyes sad. He knew then, she had realized Michael could not give her that. He had not been around long enough for her to realize he could not grow old with her even if he wished that it was what he wanted. He had brought her back to the feast and they enjoyed the evening, doing his best to ignore what he knew was to happen.

All that night, as she slept off the beer and wine of the evening, he listened to her heartbeat. It was quieter than it had ever been, and beating more slowly. She was heartbroken. He was aware she loved him somewhat and that she wanted the life she described in the garden, she could have one but not both, and Michael was sure which she would choose. He decided to save her the scene of breaking the news to him.

In the morning, she woke to find him gone and all his things taken with him except a small ring he left for her as a gift for her future wedding with his blessing that she might have all she wanted. Breaking his strict rule to leave all former lovers in the past, lest he have another awkward and heartbreaking reunion as he had with his first mortal lover, Michael had checked in on his Egyptian Amazon only one time. She had married a good man and bore him two sons before the good man died of an injury to his legs, then she raised her sons to be good men and she helped educate her grandchildren whom Michael saw her playing with from his perch far too high for her old eyes to make out.

Even as he flew away, he could hear the strong, steady beat of her heart, as vital as he remembered from when they raced in the desert. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum. He smiled. She was nolonger heartbroken.

There were many things that required Michael’s attention over the years after that, so his lovers were few and far between. Rarely did he stay with one for more than a few nights, enough to blow off some steam, as the humans would say. Not long enough to form any real attachment on either side, just as he intended.

In the early medieval times, there had been a beautiful woman in the mountains to the far East. She lived above the clouds, in a small plateau far away from the nearest village or city. Her father had been a sword maker until he died years before Michael arrived. She had gone on, making swords and claiming they were of her father’s efforts, taking the money and supporting herself with it. No one questioned her, especially after seeing the quality of the swords she brought.

Michael had stumbled across her small home in a storm that made flying too risky. She had found him and offered him shelter from the terrible storm. Superstitious and quiet as she was, the woman had a keen eye for reading the face and a wit Michael had not seen the like of in an age. Proving himself useful and intelligent enough to make his company enjoyable, he had been permitted to stay.

For the rest of the winter, he had kept her estate clear and her bed warm. She had not been a virgin when he arrived, admitting that she enjoyed the company of some of her late father’s former apprentices over the years, always careful to keep her father from learning of it. She enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh and saw no reason women ought to be barred from such indulgence aside from by the dictate of selfish, small men. Michael did not disagree.

When spring came, she pronounced that she was done with him and he was to leave. Michael was not accustomed to mortals giving him marching orders, yet he found it oddly attractive. He had made love to her one final time, listening as her heartbeat thrilled and then came down from the high. The gentle, quiet rhythm had lulled him almost to sleep before the sunrise dictated that it was time for his departure. Slipping away with the night, he left that steady rhythm behind for the last time.

Then there had been a beautiful, kind woman in Australia. She had found Michael after a battle with a lower angel who had betrayed the higher angels and Father. Michael had been slightly wounded when she found him removing a feather from his wing, to assist in the healing. She had been awed at the sight, then had run when he looked up at her. He saw her again, days later, while scouting for the traitorous lower angel’s cohorts.

Noticing the snare and smelling the mortal woman who ran from him earlier, Michael made a plan. He let himself be caught and then waited for her return. Seeing him in her trap, she clearly felt she could get the drop on him if she wished to, making the playing field seemingly even. For two moons, he had stayed with her, worshiping her body and listening to her tales. He delighted in her heartbeat. Strong, steady, but giving away her every little change in emotion.

Gabriel and Uriel arrived with more news of the treacherous lower angel, requiring Michael’s aid to finish their job. He had to leave his mortal lover behind. A familiar scene, by this point. He stood with her, explaining that his family needed him to go do a mighty battle for them. She had kissed him fiercely and told him to protect his family, then she had turned and left without so much as a backward glance. It was bad luck to look back and would bring misfortune on both the onlooker and those they cast the look to. As he flew with his siblings, he could hear her heartbeat growing fainter with every pulse of his wings.

For many years, he kept his contact with humans to a minimum and stayed close to his brothers and sisters. If he went down to Earth, it was by his Father's decree, and he would return the very moment he had completed his assigned task. During those years, there were no lovers among the mortals. A few higher angels had turned his head at times and he had enjoyed their company at different points. Their hearts were vibrant and reminded him of mortals, yet it was not the same and Michael avoided thinking on it. Then, shortly before the War, Father had sent him to Earth with a vague task.

And he had met a lovely woman with gray hair and a flat, scarred chest. She had fought for her life against a disease that sought to end her. She had been out with some friends, celebrating the anniversary of her cancer going into remission when she spotted Michael at the bar. He had been hiding out, avoiding Gabriel over some petty squabble. Their shared, vague task had not been going well. Mortal drink had no real effect, however the burn as it rolled down the back of his throat, had been a welcome sensation at that time.

Ambling over, she had gracefully slipped a hip onto the bar stool beside him and asked what had brought such a pretty thing to a place like the one they sat in. He had smiled, deciding that he liked her already. Confident and sassy, a winning combination in his estimation.

“Family dispute. Yourself?”, he asked before sipping the last of his drink.

She flashed a grin, though he did not miss the hollow pain that quickly danced behind her dark eyes. He also noted that her hair was rather short, though in a flattering, asymmetrical cut for her angular features.

“Celebrating an anniversary. Your drink is almost empty, let a lady buy you a refill?”

He nodded.

“Scotch.”

She nodded, then flagged down the bar tender, motioning for another round of each of their two drinks. Four hours later, when Last Call was given, she asked him to come back to her place. He had not taken the slightest bit of convincing. She lived several blocks away and they had made a dash as the rain came pouring down, using Michael’s jacket as an umbrella.

When they arrived at her fifth story walk-up, they had both been drenched from the feet up due to the puddles they ran through, their hair wet, shirts plastered to their chests. As she looked him over, her pupils expanded to overtake her irises, her breathing grew faster, and her heart began to gallop in her chest. He watched as her chest expanded and fell, the edge of one scar showing through the thin, soaked material of her shirt.

Michael let her make the first move, stepping closer to reach for Michael’s shirt, kissing him passionately. He swore their clothing should have steamed dry from the kiss alone. When she moved to invade his mouth with a pliant tongue, Michael took that as the Go Ahead to begin removing her clothes, letting his hands take plenty of time to roam, to explore, as he did so.

Her body was a road map of scars, stretch marks, faded tattoos, and beauty marks. Without her saying or the photos on her walls, he could guess she was a mother as the stretch marks spoke of a once-rounded belly holding a child as it grew in it’s first home. Her chest was as scarred as an old soldier, both breasts having been removed as well as at least three ribs he could feel that had metal plates in them from a separate surgery, one that had scars older than her mastectomy.

He traced them all, watching as she first went still and then shuddered pleasurably at the touch. He watched and listened, careful for any clue she was not enjoying his attentions. A tattoo of a purple rose sat at her right hip bone, the green stem covering a deep scar. Another tattoo of a flower hid a scar on her upper thigh. As he kissed all over her body, he detected another scar behind her right ear where he could see the stitch marks, then another on the back of her right hand.

Her life had not been an easy one, though it seemed nothing had taken the fire out of her. The fight to live. She hummed with life, old heartaches and pain only fueling her inner fire. She was magnificent and Michael was in awe as he worshiped the battler woman’s body. She had heart and there was steel in her spine. The spark of life raged in her battered body, and Michael could not help admire her determination, courage, and sheer power of will.

In the hours after, as she slumbered in his arms, he listened to that warrior’s heart as it beat behind a battered ribcage. He held her close, listening, one hand over her back to feel the rhythm of the most vital of organs as it pumped the life through her mortal frame. When she woke, it was with a smirk as she asked if he up for another round or if he might need a breather. Michael had eagerly taken the challenge.

After a few more hours, she had to meet her son for dinner and gave Michael her number, offering that he could give her a call next time family drama had him worked up and he needed an outlet. Michael had called her, three times, over the next year. Every time she invited him to come right over and they spent all the night in the sinful dance of desire. The second time, he could tell that her heart was growing stronger. She was clearly winning her health battles.

He noticed, upon the last night together, that she had gotten a new tattoo. The typical and popular image of the Archangel Michael, in all his glory, stepping down on the serpent, sword raised and shield held strong. It sat above her rib-surgery scars, on the back of her right shoulder.

Michael asked her about it, and she told him that the archangel Michael was a battler, whom her late grandfather always prayed to when he needed strength or felt a fight coming on, as he claimed the archangel Michael was the one who fought for the little guy against the Goliaths of the world. She had then chuckled, saying it was silly, but that it had made her feel closer to her grandfather when she was sitting and getting poison pumped into her to kill the new cancer that had come up a few months earlier. She had proudly announced that they had given her a clean bill of health just that morning. Michael helped her celebrate with a little more time spent in lovemaking. She was so alive, so radiant, he could not have resisted her if he had tried to.

The next time he paid attention to heartbeats, he had been holding the hands of a scared girl as she lay on a dingy diner floor, her beloved and others fighting to protect the small diner from 8Balls outside, a teenager between the girl’s legs as contractions racked the young woman’s body with pain. She was to give birth to the Chosen One, the child who would bring Father back. Michael had given up his wings, had forsaken Heaven and his family, to watch over this young woman and her child.

He could hear her heart pounding, strong and erratic in her chest, her breathing gasping and short, her sweaty, small hands grasping his larger ones for dear life, her whole body shaking and sweat-drenched as she fought to deliver her son. Michael had whispered in her ear, trying to encourage her as best he could. She did not want the child in her womb, she did not want to be in the middle of the Apocalypse, she did not want a weird fallen angel holding her hands as a stranger helped her give birth, and she did not want to be surrounded by all the death and gunfire.

Michael had also been focused on another heartbeat. The rapid-fire, tiny heartbeat of the Chosen One. The teen persisted, ordering Charlie around as if she had helped deliver a hundred babies while Michael quietly reminded her to breathe, when to rest, when to push, and that it was alright to crush his hands if that helped at all. Then, suddenly, the air previously filled with gunfire and shouts, was split by the sound of a baby’s wailing cries.

The teenager held the baby, quickly cleaning the boy and cutting the umbilical with scissors she had found, and wrapping the boy in a clean rag. She tried to hand him over to Charlie, who curled away from the babe and further into Michael’s chest. Her heartbeat was slowing down, though it was not with a swell of love as he had heard mothers’ hearts do in centuries past. No, her heart went as still as a living heart could. She looked away, almost burrowing into Michael’s side as the teenager held the crying baby out. Michael shook his head, quietly suggesting the teen take the baby off a few feet and let Charlie have some space to catch her breath.

Charlie had cried into his shirt, and Michael caught her saying how this was all a terrible dream. That she would wake up soon, back in her bed, then head off to school, then come for a shift at the diner after her classes. That this wasn’t real, she had not just had a baby, there was not a war going on outside, and she was not sitting in the arms of a fallen angel. Her whisper was so quiet and her hands shook.

Michael’s heart, broken as it already was, shattered anew. She was just a kid. Her whole life had been ahead of her, now she was the mother of the most important baby in the world and in the middle of a war between Humans and Angels. Michael vowed to protect both she and the child, until such time that the child could bring Father home and end this war. Even if he had to fight Gabriel to do it, Michael would keep them safe.

And so, for the next year, he listened for two familiar heartbeats. The tiny, rapid one of the Child and the steady, quiet one belonging to Charlie. Then Jeep’s, which was strong and steady, a perfect match for the man who encased it. Despite Michael’s best efforts, Noma’s betrayal had almost cost him the Child. He had failed to protect Charlie, but had knelt beside her in that shower, holding her in his arms once more as she lay covered in her own blood, begging Michael to find Alex and protect him, even as her heartbeat grew faint and sluggish. Then, with one last heartbeat, she thanked Michael. He had failed her and she thanked him with her dying breath. Michael tore into the sky looking for Noma. She would pay for her betrayal.

When he found Noma, she had been weeping, unable to complete the task Gabriel set her to. With a hoarse, raw voice, she explained that she had felt Father's presence about the babe and had been unable to end the child's life. Michael had taken Alex away, back to Jeep, before facing Noma again. She swore an oath to protect Alex, to give her life for his if need be, and for over two decades - Noma had kept to her oath.

All the while in Vega, Michael kept his ears tuned to the sound of Alex’s heartbeat and as the boy grew to a man, Michael installed Noma to be close to Alex. She had sworn to atone for killing Charlie on Gabriel’s orders. She would protect Alex. Michael mostly trusted her, after seeing her face when she explained how she could feel Father’s essence like a shroud around the baby. She knew Alex was the key to Father’s return, and as such, he had to be protected at all costs. It was the one thing Michael and Noma agreed on during the War.

There had been several distractions, women who Michael laid with to try to alleviate some of the isolation he felt. He could not often congregate with the higher angels he had hidden in Vega, for fear he would give away their secret. Nor could he truly be at home among the humans, for they saw him as their Protector, Savior, and some as the Enemy since he was an Angel. He was not one of them. Becca Thorne, doctor and ranking member of Vega’s elite, had first only arranged for women to ‘entertain’ the Archangel.

For the first few years, Michael made sure to have the girls who kept him company, on a rotating schedule. He did not want to get too close to any of them and he also knew that if it were known that any one of these women had shared herself with him, that she would be a pariah for the rest of her days. He might have been the protector of the city, but he was still an Angel, which made him one of the enemy. He had the women come in at night, several at a time, laying with them all before the dawn’s arrival. Then he would take his leave of them and go take a quick flight around the city. The women were always gone by the time he returned.

Becca began coming along, at first just for the drinking and some kissing, then she began showing up alone at some point. They would drink, she would attempt to flirt, and Michael would leave after a while. Until, one night she came to his room without a drink in hand and having none in her blood, her heart hammering in her chest as she grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed a sensual kiss to his lips. Michael had stood numb at first, unsure why this woman was doing this. Yes, he was not unaware that many women in Vega found him physically appealing, even if they would not admit it in polite company. However, Becca stood to lose far more than the women she gathered to come to him when he was of need of company. She was of the upper-most status in the V-system. A senator. If Vega found out she was sleeping with an angel, even the Archangel protector Michael, she would be ruined.

“Why are you doing this?”, he had asked.

“Because I want to. I want you.”

“You know what will happen if anyone learns of this?”

She nodded.

“And you do not wish to stop?”

Again, she did not answer verbally- only shaking her head, then she added another electrifying kiss. Michael let loose, kissing her back fiercely, almost territoriality. She was intelligent, a bit ruthless politically speaking, cunning, very pretty, tall, and had beautiful red hair. She was hardly unattractive, if not much like the women he generally preferred.

They stayed like that for a couple years, a covert relationship constantly under threat of discovery. Until they were discovered, her secret used against her. She betrayed him, even when the threat had been removed, she chose loyalty to humans and her political aspirations, over her feelings for Michael. And in the end, fueled by so much rage after mercifully putting his friend to rest and seeing so many of his kind hanging dead in the streets for public display, he strangled his former lover in her own lab. She had not even bothered to deny her part in the executions and the dissections of living subjects, of killing angels slowly and painfully after promising Michael to help protect them and smuggle them out of Vega.

Due to the blood rushing in his ears and the roar of his own heart, he had not heard Alex’s. Or heard as Alex pleading with him to stop. Instead, he had strangled Becca and then began picking off soldiers as they attacked him stupidly. One by one, with inferior skills and sloppy shots from their guns, it was no real threat to him, yet he killed them anyway. He was The Flood, and he did not spare those who faced off with him. He had been unstoppable. A force of nature in action. Until Alex wounded him. His sense instantly returned as he finally saw the fear in Alex's eyes and heard it in the erratic quaver of Alex's heart.

Michael had been overwhelmed by his guilt. It choked him, pressing against him until he could not take it. He flew. Far and fast, he had to get away. He was a danger to Alex and to Vega. He had failed to properly protect the higher angels who had come to him for protection and who had sworn to by loyal to him, and to Alex. He had nearly killed Alex. The boy who was more than the bearer of Father's markings but had taken up a special place for Michael. One Michael could not yet set a name to, and yet Michael had very nearly killed the boy. And for this crime, he banished himself to the seashore, waiting for a sign from Father.

He had been isolated, alone again until there had been Laurel in Mallory. She had been sweet where Becca was cunning, selfless where Becca was mercenary, patient where Becca was scheming. She was strong and determined, not without fault, but without the selfishness Michael had grown accustomed to seeing in his dealings with the upper crust of the V-system. When he made the bargain to save her, and Mallory, he had never expected to see her again. Even when Gabriel dragged him back and they encountered their brother’s black hat wearing servant, he had not seen her or heard the quiet, slightly off-beat rhythm of her heartbeat.

When they returned to make a first stand against Lucifer, before Alex brought Noma back, Laurel had been with the group escaping Mallory. It would nolonger be protected and they planned to head to a settlement further inland, where another group had a walled-in city they would attempt to get into. Michael had bid her a good and safe journey, and thanked her for bringing him back to his mission.

"Michael?"

He looked down into her beautiful, dark eyes, listening as her heart thudded harshly. She seemed a bit conflicted.

"Last night, I had a dream. A very vivid one. I've had a few before, always when I was away from the town."

"They were not the same as the voice you heard in Mallory?"

She shook her head.

"No, these were... softer. Less authoritative, almost like...an echo? It said there was an Oracle. She lives where the fire erupts from the stone and water, a dragon's eye guards the way to her home. She will know something about the markings. I knew, even as I was hearing it, that I needed to tell you about it."

He considered.

"I do not know all the meaning of this.", Michael mused before seeing how it seemed to upset Laurel that he did not understand. Smiling, he added, "Father's riddles reveal themselves in due time. Thank you for sharing the details of your visions."

Laurel nodded.

"Thank you for coming to save us, again.", then she added, "You take care of yourself and your Chosen One, alright?"

She kissed him once for luck, then smiled and turned away, walking with her people into the desert without looking back. She reminded him of someone he used to know. A huntress who had bravely wished him well in his battles and then walked off into the desert wilds.

He was roused from his thoughts as he heard the heartbeat most familiar to him. Gabriel. His twin, his greatest equal, his Yang. Michael smiled.

"Ready, brother?"

Turning, Michael smiled.

"Whenever you are, brother."

Gabriel smiled, the light back in his brother's eyes for the first time since before the War. Michael was glad of it. If they were to succeed, they would need to rely on each other to protect Alex and to return Father back to their home.


	2. Angels in the Dessert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on the road, after defeating Lucifer, Alex is injured. Noma, Gabriel, and Michael need to get him somewhere safe, and fast. Then their transportation breaks down, leaving them stranded in the dessert on their journey to see the oracle Lauren had told Michael about. The one even Lucifer had been concerned about. Michael and co. will meet a tall stranger who may well become a vital part of their journey to the oracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions injuries but not in great detail, people get shot dead, and there is mention of nightmares about someone being forced to kill a bad guy to protect a child. One character recounts finding their ex dead on the road, a couple days after the guy left her- may be a wee bit gross but it's brief. There is a discussion of what wandering, murderous raiders might want when they encounter 'easy pickings' on the roadside in this post-apocalyptic world (but not in detail, vaguely alluded to).
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me, sorry about the delay in posting new chapters.

In the weeks following their confrontation with Lucifer’s leading henchman in Mallory, Michael, Gabriel, Noma, and Alex found themselves on the road once more. Noma had, in her time as Lucifer’s brain-washed servant, overheard him speaking of this Oracle. To the best of Noma’s fuzzy recollection of her time under Lucifer’s control, this Oracle was someone to be feared. That she Knew things no mortal was meant to know. Somehow, deep in his marrow, Michael was sure they needed to speak with this Oracle.

Just shy of a month after they had rescued Noma and begun their search for the Oracle, they were attacked by a rather large pack of 8Balls accompanied by seven higher angels. Noma stayed beside Alex, the two fighting as one. Gabriel and Michael worked to clear a circle around them, trying to limit the number who got close enough for Noma or Alex to have to deal with.

They were not doing badly, until Michael heard Noma screaming Alex’s name. Turning, he saw Alex fall, his arms protectively covering his chest as Noma dove forward, her white wing slicing the air to knock the 8Ball backward into Gabriel’s waiting sword.

Before Michael could order it, Noma moved to cover Alex with her wings as she moved to check his wounds. Gabriel dispatched two oncoming 8Balls as Michael handled the final higher angel. They battled for several minutes before Michael got the upper hand and removed the higher angel’s head with one stroke. Only then did he allow himself to turn and check on Alex.

“Noma?”

“He’s alive.”, she answered, moving her wings to allow Michael and Gabriel a view.

“Michael?”, Alex whispered.

Michael sprang forward, kneeling beside Alex. There was blood all across the front of Alex’s shirt and thin jacket meant to protect the natural blond from the dessert sun. The dark red did not look right against the green and gray of his clothes, sickening Michael as he realized how much blood there was. Noma’s voice was quiet in his ear as she spoke and Michael held Alex’s bloody hand.

“He can’t be moved too much. We’ll need to find a defensible place to hide for a couple days. Maybe more.”

Looking, he could see Noma’s hazel eyes wide with fear. It had been her unshakable love for Alex that had finally broken Lucifer’s hold over her. Michael would never again question that Noma would die for Alex, and certainly would kill for him. And she would not do anything to risk losing Alex. Not even to get Father back.

“Alright. Patch him as best you can, Gabriel and I will get him into the back of the truck.”

She nodded. Waving for Gabriel, Michael changed position. It took only a moment for them to get Alex into the truck and have Noma get herself situated in the back floor to kneel beside Alex on the seat, with Michael riding in the short bed and Gabriel driving.

For a while, it seemed they would be alright. The sun was growing low and the storm that had been threatening all day, seemed to be holding back. Michael scanned for a place they could stay when he heard an odd sound coming from the engine. There was a sputter, oddly shuttering through the engine block. Michael knew enough to know that was not a good sign at all. The smell of smoke and oil added further confirmation.

Gabriel was forced to pull off the side of the dilapidated highway, off a smaller service road of sorts. They had just enough left in the car to make it most of the way to a set of rocky outcroppings with a pathway between them that was not quite wide enough to drive a car through.

Suddenly, a woman appeared from behind one of the large rocks in the pathway. She had a shotgun in her hands. Michael could hear the strong, steady beat of her heart. He and Gabriel stood before her, two strangers and she wasn’t terribly scared, more unsettled.

He was curious about this woman. Michael ordered the others to stay back, including his grumbling brother, before moving forward with his hands in the Don’t Shoot position. He intended to explain their situation, in simple terms.

“We don’t mean any harm. We are fleeing from Vega and our car is dying. We’ve a wounded man and the three of us.”

She eyeballed him through goggles with a cap and scarf hiding the rest of her features. The ample bosom under her shirt and the curve of her hip he could see around the edge of the rock, were evidence enough to his eyes, that this well-armed person was most definitely female.

“Why are you fleeing Vega?”

“Vega has fallen.”

He saw the slight waiver in her posture. Most in the general area had known of Vega. Many sought to join the people there, in the relative safety offered in the ruins of old Los Vegas.

“I hadn’t heard. What of the Arch Angel?”

“He also fled.”, Michael answered.

It was the truth. She didn’t need to know, at the moment, that he was the one she was asking about. Or who the three with her were.

“How bad is your injured man?”, she asked as she lowered her shotgun slightly.

“We were attacked by 8Balls. One cut his chest pretty badly. We’ve someone sitting with him, trying to take care of him with her meager supplies.”

He figured it didn’t hurt to mention at least one person in their party was female. It seemed to work. The woman eyed them for a breath longer, then lowered her weapon.

“You can stay the night.”

She hooked the sawed-off shotgun into a custom-made holster on her right hip. It was then that Michael really took the time to look her over. Another holster on her left thigh held a revolver, there was a knife tucked into each of her boots, a stiletto dagger was attached to the inside of her right arm, a bowie knife on her right thigh with the shotgun, and he was pretty sure her spotted another holster at the small of her back as she climbed down off the backside of the rock.

“I’ve got some herbal remedies and such back here. You can lay your guy out down here. It’s cooler and I’ve got some rope laid out to keep the snakes less interested.”

Michael nodded, then gestured to Gabriel to help him get Alex. Noma jumped out, Alex’s blood coloring her hands and part of her shirt. Their new host looked them over, shaking her head as she gestured for a small cot they could put Alex on. Michael made sure Alex was as comfortable as he could make him.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”, their host said.

Michael looked at Noma, for the first time really looking her over for injuries. Aside from a few scrapes on her hand from the scuffle, she seemed unharmed. Physically, at least. Gabriel paced like a caged beast just beyond them.

“Gabriel, perhaps a fly-over?”

His twin paused, looking at him for a moment. He was checking on Michael. A slight nod was all he needed to assure him that Michael was well enough. With a leap, Gabriel was aloft. Footsteps drew Michael’s attention to his right. Their hostess, her goggles, cap, and scarf removed, and mouth open slightly as she looked at where Gabriel had flown off.

“So y’all are angels?”

“Not all of us.”, Michael answered.

Her dark gray eyes moved to Alex’s injured form. There was a softness there. She was not so battle-hardened by the War as to have lost her humanity.

“One human, guarded by three Higher Angels. Either he’s of great importance or he’s the best joke-teller in history.”

“He’s very important to us.”

There was something about the way she looked at Michael that left him feeling as if she had glimpsed into his soul. It was not something he was accustomed to in a mortal. Even Alex had taken a while to get to the point of occasionally glimpsing more than Michael wanted him to see.

“Here.”, she said as she stepped forward, making Noma tense and take a half-step closer.

He watched the silent conversation between the two women. Their hostess adjusted her posture to be a bit less forceful. Noma retracted her step, an apologetic look on her tired face.

“I promise, stuff’s just a herbal cream. Helps keep wounds clean and stops infection from setting in and doing harm. Smells a bit odd, I’ll grant you. Works wonders on cuts and burns though.”

Noma took the jar with a nod.

“Thank you.”

“Just scoop up some on your fingertips and then rub it gently around the edges of the wound. You can put a little inside a damp washcloth first, and clean out the wound.”

“Thank you.”, Noma offered quietly before moving to tend Alex’s injury.

“In the morning, we can take a look at your truck. I’ve got some spare parts and I was planning to hit a nearby town I just found a couple days back, see if there’s anything there worth scavenging. Might have more cars or parts there.”

Michael stood, allowing Noma to tend to Michael, and figuring that someone had to talk to their host. He also needed to get away from Alex’s blood before he had some sort of breakdown, with memories of his Amphora-induced nightmare, flooding his mind. He followed their hostess out to the opening opposite of where their car lay under a tarp Gabriel must have covered it with.

“My name is Michael.”, he offered.

The girl turned, arching a dark eyebrow. This close, without distraction, he thought she was attractive. And young.

“Like the Arch Angel of Vega, or an interesting coincidence?”

“The former.”

She nodded, turning to look back out at the barren landscape. Michael studied her for a moment. She couldn't not have been any older than Alex, he was sure. Though her confident posture suggested someone older. Her black hair was tied up in braids pinned to the back of her head, a thin strand falling almost into her right eye. The night gave her pale skin an almost deathly pallor, set against such dark hair and eyes, she reminded Michael of one of Uriel's paintings. He couldn't remember which one though.

“Rylee, but you can call me Lee.”

“How does a woman come to be out here alone, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Oh, nothing new. Girl grows up in a kick-ass family. Girl meets boy with a large truck with stories about a city near the ocean where they can live in peace in the old ruins with a beautiful view. Girl leaves with boy. Boy bails the first time he sees 8Balls. Girl finds boy’s dead body two days later. Girl is stuck. I’m sure you’ve heard some variation of it, a thousand times.”

Michael nodded. He had heard many similar stories in Vega. Usually, the left-behind party did not fair so well. The last few he had seen had been dragged in by guards or scavengers who worked officially for the city, barely breathing and so sunburned and dehydrated that half of them did not survive their first night in Vega.

“How have you survived?”

“My pops was an Army Ranger before the War, his two best friends were Navy Seals. They had a fourth friend, a Marine, but he died protecting his younger brother before my mom met them. Pops and she hit it off and got hitched, and with uncle Nick and uncle Antonio, they made sure I could survive in just about any place someone might drop me. My mom, she had been a pediatric surgeon, so my medical skills are above average.”

He nodded, seeing how such a unique upbringing might produce a hardy, resilient woman capable of surviving under harsh circumstances. Michael glanced back to check on Noma and Alex, then upward to Gabriel.

“Your boy is going to need some rest. If you promise not to run off with everything I’ve got, including my water, you can stay a few days and let him heal up. Let yourselves get a bit of rest, maybe work on that truck a little. I’m not a great mechanic, but I’m not helpless.”

“That is a promise I can make, and keep, very easily. Is there anything here we could help you with?”

She nodded.

“I’ve got some traps and such set up in the area. We could take turns having someone stay up to keep watch. Daylight, I’m gonna head up to a little town just up the road aways from here. Los Mirioto, I think was the name. They were big enough to warrant a McDonalds, so I figure there ought to be a few houses, a couple gas stations, maybe a drug store or hardware store, and probably a few cars that got left behind. Maybe even a shop, if we’re lucky, that had a few spare parts laying around. You might find something for that truck.”

“Would you mind some company?”

“Not at all.”

“Then may I accompany you? Two can carry more than one, and it is safer not to travel alone.”

She smiled.

“Who else you got with you? Your boy, the woman, and the other man?”

“My brother, Gabriel, is the one flying overhead to make sure we are safe.”

“Gabriel, the Arch Angel who wants to wipe out humanity?”, she asked with a bit of an edge to her tone.

Michael couldn’t blame her. Gabriel’s lust for blood was common knowledge. His recent change of heart was not.

“He’s come to his senses and knows that we must have peace.”

She eyed him for a moment.

“And the girl?”

“A higher angel, Noma. She helped protect the walls of Vega for several years.”

“And your boy in there?”

“Alex. Human.”

“Figured, considering the blood and how worried the three of you looked.”

For a long moment, they simply stood, looking out at the rapidly cooling night. Michael was unsure how she would react to the latest news.

“I’ll take first shift. You three all look ready to drop.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded, then turned to walk away. Michael let out a long breath. He strained a bit to listen. He could hear the movement of Gabriel’s wings in the night air, Noma muttering quietly to Alex, and under it all, the steady, familiar beating of Alex’s heart. Michael closed his eyes, listening. Alex was alive and his heartbeat strong.

“Father,”, Michael prayed, “protect him.”

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

In the morning, Michael walked with their hostess towards the little town. He had offered to fly her but she pointed out that they could save his wings for if there was trouble, or if they found something too large for the both of them to move. As they walked, Michael decided to try talking. It always worked with humans in the past.

“You said you found your ex-lover and that you were stuck. How long have you been here?”

She shrugged a shoulder before adjusting the straw fedora on her head. Along with the thin coat she wore, she had a pale blue scarf tied around her neck to protect that fair skin from the punishing sun.

“I think it’s been about a year that I’ve been on the road alone. He skipped only a month or so after we left my family. And I caught up with him a few days later. Buzzards had mostly cleaned him all off, but I could still tell it had been him. Truck was ruined beyond my abilities to repair, so I stripped everything off that was useful and I’ve been scavenging ever since. I think I’ve stayed pretty safe, 8Balls don’t tend to venture this far and I’m alone with no obvious resources worth taking. I’ve only killed a couple since I came out here, and both times I had been scavenging in old towns that were abandoned in the beginning of the War.”

“Will you ever go back to civilization?”, he had asked her.

“You’re running from one of the most fortified cities still standing. Come on, Angel, you really think I want to risk letting other people be responsible for my safety.”

He had been taken aback, asking, “You’ve spotted and taken out 8balls, all on your own?”

“I’m the daughter of a Special Forces dude and his two green barrettes best friends were my dutiful uncles. I don’t miss much, and I could knock my uncles and my pops off their feet enough times to know I can handle my own.”

Michael quirked a smile. Rylee passed him the spyglass, pointing out to the North-East. Taking the glass, Michael looked until he saw a single street with a line of buildings on either side.

“Town of Los Mariachi. Use to have some taverns with live music in all of them, plus like one store, one tiny hotel, a church, and a McDonalds. I just found it last week, so I haven’t explored or scavenged much from there yet.”

Before they left, Michael had lett Noma and Gabriel know where he was going. Gabriel would stay on watch, Noma would stick close to Alex, which allowed Alex to sleep. Gabriel had been concerned, though Noma seemed to trust this young woman and agreed it was a good idea. The two women had seemed to develop a quick rapport.

Michael took his daggers and followed Rylee out. And now, over an hour later, they were almost inside the little town. It might have been a charming, small town once. Now it was dilapidated, with rust and peeling paint everywhere Michael looked. This was what the war had wrought.

“You want to go through the houses together, or each take one side of the street and meet up at the burger place at the end?”

“We should go up one side, together, then come down the opposite. Might take longer but it’s safer.”

She nodded. Michael had half-expected an argument.

“Makes sense. Besides, together we can do a better job of sweeping a place anyway. Two sets of eyes and all that.”

The took the right side of the street, starting at a peach-colored two-story house with a white porch with enough birck-a-brack to suggest someone had liked Queen Anne architecture. Rylee went in first, her revolver drawn and half-raised as she stepped inside. Michael kept her left hand wrapped around his one dagger, ready to back her up.

Inside the house, the slightly tattered curtains billowed in the warm breeze, looking as ghosts over the faded furniture pushed against the wall. It seemed the family who lived there had tried to barricade themselves in by the looks of things. Michael allowed his eyes to wander. It was a well-built house and had stood up to all the neglect over the years. Rylee headed into the kitchen while Michael moved down the hall towards the bathrooms and bedrooms. That would be where anything Alex might need, would be found.

The first bedroom had clearly been the guest room. No clothes in the drawers or closet, a lack of decoration beyond a set of faded blue and beige sheets and a vase with artificial flowers on the little desk. He moved to the next room. The Master bedroom. King sized bed, en suite bath, large picture window, a walk-in closet, and twin sinks in the bathroom. From the looks of the contents in the closet and drawers, it had been a tall husband and a chubby, short wife. He headed into the bathroom.

Rylee had given him a small bag that was water-proof and another bag that looked like it had been an army duffel once. He pulled out the small bag and started going through the medicine cabinet. Outdated over the counter pain meds, some old cough medicine, birth control, and separated nail polish. Nothing of use. He moved to the second one, over what seemed to have been the husband’s sink, with the razor still sitting as a rusted stick beside the porcelain. Hair gel, shaving cream, and other items of no use. Michael hoped they did better in future houses.

Turning back to the bedroom, he decided he would try to find something he could use to replace the clothes bloodsoaked clothes Alex and Noma sported. The husband had been closer to Michael’s height, perhaps a little taller. The wife had been too short, her clothing would not have sufficiently long sleeves for Noma’s arms. Michael did grab a crocheted blanket off the foot of the bed and shoved it into his duffel. It was a small throw, but they could put it over Alex’s legs while he slept at night.

Next, he went to the steps and moved upstairs. Two smaller bedrooms with a shared bathroom at the end of the short hall. The first bedroom was decorated with posters of teenaged boy bands and pictures of Paris. He checked the closet to find clothing he was sure would fit Noma, as well as a soccer uniform and cleated shoes to suggest an athlete with loads of crushes. Michael took two shirts, a denim jacket, and a fresh packet of white socks that hadn’t been opened. He figured they would fit Noma well enough for now. He had almost finished when he saw something that gave him pause.

There, on the little desk where the teen might have once done her homework, sat a photo of the whole family. A portly, short woman with a large, happy smile and large, golden curls that looked natural, sat with her family. A tall, lanky man with a shiny, bald head and thick glasses but a smile to match his wife’s, though his looked as if he were holding back a chuckle. They had two daughters, the elder already taller than her mother and looking about 14 or 15, with curly black hair and braces as she held a trophy of a soccer player, the other a couple years younger with straight blonde hair and a smaller smile, clinging tightly to her daddy’s side as she wore a pretty purple dress and short enough to suggest she took more after her mother.

Before the War, this family had lived in this home. They had gone to soccer games, eaten dinner in the eat-in kitchen downstairs, sat and watched movies on the large sofa, and been blissfully unaware of the calamity that was coming. Forcing himself to take a deep breath and clear his mind, Michael stepped into the other bedroom. He had not expected to find much of use there, though he knew enough to check anyway. He was rewarded with a small tool set tucked into the back of the closet. The toolset had a small tag one might expect to find on a birthday present, saying, “To Dotty, love Daddy”. Michael carefully tucked the small toolset into his bag. Wherever the family was, they wouldn’t be coming back for their belongings.

“Michael!”

His blood went cold.

“We’ve got company!”

Michael rushed back down the stairs and down the hall to find Rylee with her shotgun leveled at the door and the sound of footsteps and muttering. He could tell from the muttering they were no 8balls. He went to the window in the living room and chanced a look outside. Four men, all looking more like a biker gang from a post-apocalyptic film than friendly neighbors.

“Stay here.”, Michael ordered.

“What about you?”

“Stay.”, he added as he gestured for her to remain in place as he headed to the door.

As soon as he stepped out, the four men paused. He supposed, on some level, most humans sensed there was something to be feared when standing before an arch angel. Even if they didn’t know he was Michael, the Flood.

“You aren’t from around here?”, the bearded one started.

Michael slowly shook his head, not taking his eyes off the four.

“What’r you doin’ here, then?”, the shortest, young-looking one asked.

“Passing through. Thought I would check for anything useful for my truck.”

“Truck?”, the burliest one asked.

“Broke down a couple miles away. Almost caught on fire. Need another ride, or a lot of spare parts.”

The bearded one stepped forward, a dirty hand running up and down his greasy, gray beard.

“Those are some nice threads you’re wearin’, friend.”

“I am not your friend.”

“Well, not yet you ain’t, no. This is our town though and we ain’t keen to share.”

“I suppose not.”, Michael said carefully.

“We could trade. What ya got to trade?”

“Nothing. I have only what I’m carrying.”

The burly one’s eyes lit up as he seemed to finally notice Michael’s weapons. For a moment, Michael thought of the blond in Mallory who had taken a shine to Michael’s daggers. Daggers Michael had very nearly used to severe the man’s throat. Twice.

“What about those pig-stickers there? They look mighty nice.”

“They were a gift. I will not part with them.”

“A gift, eh?”, the old man asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, get out if’n you ain’t got nothing to trade. We don’t like strangers without goods.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how long have you been here? This town doesn’t seem as if it has been raided over much.”

“We just arrived a couple days ago.”

“Ah, well in that case, this town belongs to me. Gentlemen, I arrived here last week and this is the first I’ve seen of you.”

The burly one came at him, as expected. Michael waited till the man was close enough and avoided the first punch and then hit the man hard enough to send him back off the little porch, over the stairs, and backwards into the chest of the skinniest of the four, resulting in both men laying in a heap of pained groans. Michael waited.

“You’re quite stronger, but you ain’t nothin against this.”, the youngest one spouted before taking aim at Michael’s head.

A shot rang out. Michael watched as the young man fell backwards, a hole in his neck that surely would have severed his spine when it exited. The bearded one looked back and forth between his fallen comrades and Michael. Clearly they had expected this to be easy, and not to result in one of them being dead, two injured, and the fourth about to crap his pants.

Michael inclined his head as he looked at the bearded man. The four had an air of filth and greed, among other nastier things. He could not say he felt sorry for any of them at present. He just hoped Rylee had enough sense to stay inside.

“I suggest you leave.”, Michael said with a clear threat in his voice.

None of the three had to be told twice. They scrambled off and down the street, heading over to a beat-up van and diving into it, then heading off. Michael waited till he could nolonger see them over the dunes and rocks, before he turned and entered the house. Rylee was crouched behind one of the sofas that had been pressed by the windows, her revolved still resting against the window sill and her eyes set on the street to the dead body of the man she had shot. Michael wondered if this was the first non-8ball she had been forced to shoot.

“Thank you.”

She turned, her face grim.

“Figured you could use a little back-up. Four to one didn’t seem fair odds.”

“No. Although, I could have handled them and four more of their ilk.”

Rylee stood up, wiping dust off her knees as she moved away from the open window. Smart girl.

“Just the same. No sense getting into a big scuffle when one shot could end it all.”

He could see the wisdom in her thinking. He also could guess that Gabriel would have heard the shot and be concerned. Over the next couple hours, they cleared the houses on the main street as well as the few businesses. They had gotten some useful items, such as tools and non-perishable food items, as well as items that were more of a luxury than a need. Rylee had insisted on picking up a few items that she could trade at a later date if she was somewhere more populated. Jewelry and bottles of wine were still coveted items in some places, and they didn’t take up too much room to use them as potential barter material.

When they reached the little camp, Gabriel dove down from his spot on the high rocks above, the look of concern clear. He had heard the shot and worried, but would not leave Noma alone to guard the injured Alex.

“We are well, brother.”

“Good. We heard a shot.”

“Yes. Rylee had to deal with some raiders.”

Gabriel turned to look at their hostess, almost seeming impressed.

“You handled multiple raiders with a single shot?”

“Yeah, you kill one while hidden and the others get a little too scared to charge. ‘Specially when there’s a large, armed dude standing there having already tossed one of them like a baseball.”

She walked past, her face still grim as she headed into the ravine where they had made camp with her. Gabriel’s eyes followed her before he looked back to Michael. Michael did not miss the way his brother seemed to be appriciating the curvy figure of their hostess. The slight waggle of his eyes stopped when he noticed the slight shaking of her hand as Rylee reached for one of her herbal remedies, then headed over to Noma and Alex. The look Gabriel gave to Michael said it all.

“I take it she is not an experienced killer?”

Michael offered a slight shrug, unsure of how to answer. He was uncertain of her history with violence.

“She stayed put, as told. That is more than I can say for many of the humans I’ve fought beside.”

Gabriel let out a scoffed laugh.

“True enough. Well, what did you get?”

“Some food, tools, items for bartering, and replacement clothes for Noma and Alex. Nothing much in the way of medical supplies, though Lee grabbed a small sewing kit with needles she says will work well for stitching up skin, if need be.”

“Good thinking. Alex has mostly slept. Noma got him to eat a bowl of the soup she and Rylee made up this morning. It seems to be holding him.”

“Good. How does the wound look?”

Gabriel shrugged as they walked.

“Noma says it looks alright. She spent more time in the company of humans, so I supposed that it was better to let her be the judge. She also knows what Alex’s coloring is supposed to look like.”

“And what his heart sounds like.”

Gabriel smiled over at his twin.

“Still attuned to that most precious bundle of muscle.”

“It tells a great many things about a human.”

“Aye, it does brother.”

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

For two days, they took turns standing watch, cooking, sleeping, tending Alex, and working on the truck. The days passed quietly as Alex’s strength returned. Michael noticed that Rylee did not sleep much and what sleep she got was fitful. Their third night, Noma was sleeping and Gabriel on watch, as Alex ate quietly beside Noma’s bedroll, his eyes showing he was a million miles away. Michael had already checked on Alex and knew that Alex was mostly just tired of being babied, though he knew he had little choice with his injury and his company.

Rylee had been tossing and turning on her bedroll before sitting up and grabbing a piece of wood she had been carving on since they arrived. It was beginning to look like a dog on an outcropping of rock. Moving over to her side, Michael offered her a cup of the tea they were drinking, as she had found a good deal of it in the town. It was a little strong, but better than the campfire coffee Noma had pilfered in an earlier town before they met Rylee.

“Thanks.”, she said as she took the offered cup, warming her fingers against the sides.

“I’ve noticed you aren’t sleeping.”

“Nightmares. They come and go.”

“You’ve had them before?”

She nodded before pulling her jacket closer around her shoulders. Michael moved to sit closer to her, pulling a thin blanket with him to settle around her shoulders and tucking it under her thighs. She offered a tired smile.

“Thanks.”

For a moment, neither spoke. She warmed her hands on her mug and Michael looked overtop the fire to where Noma slept and Alex sat close to her, occasionally seeing the blond turn to watch Noma sleeping for a moment here and there.

“I killed a man, only a few days after all this stuff started happening, with the Angels taking over bodies of people. There had been this man, he broke into the car my mom was driving us away with. She went into a gas station to see if there was anything useful and left me in the car. There hadn’t been anyone around, she thought I would be safe. This man broke into the car. He wasn’t an 8ball. I remember he had these bright… bright blue eyes, almost white. When he saw me, he smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. It was… predatory. I knew, down in my bones, that he meant to hurt me in ways my kid’s brain couldn’t imagine. I knew my mom had a small revolver in her purse. I snatched it just as he got ahold of my leg and started dragging me out of the car through the window he broke. I don’t remember aiming or pulling the trigger. I just remember the sound. A roar. Then a ringing as the life faded out of his scary, bright eyes. He slumped back, then fell. My mom came out, checked on me, kicked his dead body, then she took off down the road. I didn’t sleep for almost a week, I think.”

“How old were you?”, Michael asked quietly. He had suspected she wasn’t much older than Alex. Now he wondered.

“Six.”

His heart broke anew for the small child, forced to spill blood in her own defense.

“After that, I had nightmares all the time. Mostly of not being able to get to the gun but sometimes… I’d see him get back up, and no matter how many times I’d shoot, he would just keep coming. It got better after my mom met pops and my uncles. They trained me up, honed that instinct, made it sound like a good thing instead of something to be feared. Pops used to tell me that it was a good thing that I read people so fast and so well, and that I could remember where the gun was and think to grab it in time to protect myself. That I was a fighter, a survivor. He even said it was good that I felt guilt afterwards, it made me a good person instead of a monster.”

Michael nodded.

“He was right. Only monsters feel no guilt over taking lives.”

She turned to look at him.

“You speak like someone who has come a bit too close to the line.”

He nodded, looking over into the fire.

“I was an instrument of my Father’s wrath. I thought nothing of laying waste to entire villages or cities. There were times when… I relished it. When I enjoyed the fear and the blood.”

“But you changed.”

“Yes. Gabriel and our sister, Uriel, they stopped me. Nearly killed me to keep me from unleashing the vengeful justice I thought was my duty. When I awoke, a boy cared for me. He had seen me slaughtering people he cared about and yet he was there, cleaning my wounds and giving me water in a dessert not unlike this one. I was moved to change because of him.”

He felt her hand, warmed by her mug, gently curl overtop of his forearm. Looking, he saw her kind, dark eyes.

“I’m glad.”

“Well, if he hadn’t, I might not have been here, with an injured man and two other angels, further imperiling your campsite.”

“Maybe I don’t mind it.”

“We should leave at first light. It won’t be long before someone follows us or someone else like those raiders, come sweeping through here looking for goods or… other things.”

She nodded, retracting her hand.

“What are you carving?”

“Sammy. My dog when I was little. She was a mutt we found a few days after… after I shot the man. Sammy had been in a basement of a house we hid out in during a bad storm. It was freezing cold and my mom didn’t want to risk getting stuck out in the snow, so she pulled into an old housing development and risked breaking into a house in the middle of a lane. It had a nice basement and wasn’t a very large house, so easy to defend if she had to. We hid out in the basement for three days before the roads were passable, and Sammy was inside, tucked into some towels from a load of laundry that never got finished. When we were leaving, she was curled up in my lap and my mom said, a few years later, that she couldn’t deny me the friendship a dog would offer, even though it meant more work for her. More mouths to feed, someone else to worry about getting into the car when we traveled, someone else to keep quiet when she was worried. But she also figured, when Sammy grew up, she would be a better alarm system than our own ears would be, and that people would be less likely to come at an armed woman and her child if there was a dog there. She was about 70Ibs full-grown, and very protective of us. Pops helped me train her to fetch and to track. I had her for 16 years before she just… didn’t wake up one morning.”

Michael didn’t imagine the watery look of Rylee’s eyes. It was clear what the dog had meant to her. It had been his experience that humans often cared more for their dogs than many of the people in their daily lives. Dogs ranked somewhere below parents and offspring, but above almost everyone else.

“She sounds like a most-excellent companion.”

Rylee smiled up at him.

“She was. When I found the chunk of wood, I just started carving mindlessly. Gave me something quiet to do at night when I was watching my campsite. Guess my hands decided it should be Sammy, still standing guard.”

Rylee put the little sculpture away in her bag before moving to lay back down. Her thin bedroll did not seem to offer much comfort against the hard ground, yet she seemed to prefer it to the thicker one she had offered to Noma. Though Michael supposed, she had spent most of her life traveling with her nomadic family, from what she had said over the last couple days. She probably had little concept of comfortable beds and living in a decent house.

“Better get some sleep.”, she offered, “We’re letting out early tomorrow.”

She winked at him before curling onto her side with her back to the fire, and quickly evening out her breathing. Michael nodded over his mug of tea. Six hours till the sun was up enough for them to really do anything. He would spell Gabriel in about an hour, then wake everyone once there was enough daylight to make sure they did not need the headlights on the truck. They had been unable to find workable replacements in the town and would only be able to drive in the light. Tomorrow would be a busy day, indeed.


	3. The Road to the Oracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having picked up a new recruit and transportation, our merry band must make their way North-East to the Oracle. Along the way, they find some more detail as to where they will find this Oracle and they have a chance to stretch their legs and to consider what will become of their company and of humanity, when this War is over and Father has returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Alex is still recovering from his injuries so mentions of everyone fussing and watching his condition like a hawke, discusses the murky nature of the future. Honestly, if you could get through the show without going into an existential spiral, you'll be fine here.

They woke early and began packing up before the sun had risen. Rylee collected some of her little traps, putting them into the new vehicle she and Michael had liberated from the little town, it was a large Jeep that had not been new when the War started. However, it ran well and someone had been kind enough to convert it to run on alcohol rather than gasoline. That made it much easier for them to plan on finding fuel for it.

They loaded Alex in first, his injuries still stinging as he had to curl himself up in order to crawl into the rear of the Jeep. Noma went in next, buckling into the middle seat, and Rylee filled the third rear seat. Gabriel took the driver’s seat, having always enjoyed driving since the first time he attempted it, while Michael took the shotgun seat. They rode for almost an hour before anyone spoke.

“Why is it called a shotgun seat?”

Noma and Gabriel both looked back at Alex, wondering what was going on with the young man’s mind.

“I mean, I rode in a tank a few times and the gunner’s seat is up high or in the rear. I don’t get it.”

“It’s from the days of the Western Union wagons and such.”, Rylee answered.

Michael smiled slightly. It did not surprise him that she would know something like that. From their conversations over the campfire, as well as when going to and from the little town they scavenged in, she seemed to be fairly well educated in history, geography, and literature. He supposed that it made sense, given that her mother had been a physician and that she had grown up traveling with men who had needed to be good with geography.

“They had to have a driver, but he needed both hands to handle the reins and the break, so that meant they had to have someone riding beside him with a shotgun for protection against robbers and such.”, Rylee further explained.

“That makes sense.”, Alex agreed.

“How do you know all this stuff?”, asked Noma.

Rylee shrugged.

“My mom has always been big on books. Everywhere we went, she checked for books and I was educated accordingly. She also loved telling stories and giving me lectures about history, and Pops, he drilled geography and battle strategy. Nick and Antonio were more into literature and philosophy. Didn’t have any other kids to play with, so when they all talked around the campirefire or in the car, I listened.”

“Sounds like growing up with Jeep.”, Alex muttered quietly.

There was silence in the car as they drove. Michael and Gabriel’s minds racing, Noma mostly worrying about Alex, who was lost in his own thoughts, and their new recruit looked out the window at the passing scenery.

“Where are you all going, anyway? I noticed you seemed to be heading vaguely North-East.”

Michael and Gabriel exchanged a look before Gabriel answered.

“We seek a person, an Oracle, who is supposed to tell us how to defeat Lucifer and bring our Father home.”

Rylee’s eyebrows went up as her forehead tipped forward.

“Huh. Tall order. Well, any idea where this Oracle is, I mean besides ‘North East’?”

Michael considered for a moment before answering.

“She is where the fire erupts from the stone and water, a dragon’s eyes guards the way to her home.”

Using the mirror, he looked back to see Rylee’s brow furrowed, her lips moving silently as she seemed to puzzle over the words. He could see the wheels turning in her mind. At least there was now someone else in their party to consider the meaning behind Laurel’s gifted words.

“You’re sure they said a Dragon’s Eye, right? Absolutely sure those were the words?”

“Yes.”, Michael answered.

Rylee’s face brightened, her eyes wide as she smiled broadly. Her hand formed fists that seemed to vibrate with energy.

“I’ve got it!”

Gabriel drifted almost to a stop as he, like everyone else in the vehicle, turned to look at Rylee.

“What? I got it. I know where you’re going. There’s only one place I know of in your North-East direction, on this continent, that fits that description. I mean, sure, y’all could be looking for something in Asia or whatever, but assuming your guide didn’t mention a boat or a plane, I’m thinking you guys need to make your way to old New York State. There was a park there, back before all this crap happened, and there was a natural gas spring that someone got the bright idea to set on fire. It’s in a small cave, under a small waterfall, so the flame erupts from the stone in the middle of a waterfall, and it create this effect at night that looks like a dragon’s eye. I’ve never actually seen it, but I know where it is if you get me a map. My pops was from New York and he used to go camping in that area. Always said someday he’d take me to see the Dragon’s Eye. It was a favorite sight of his as a kid.”

Gabriel and Michael looked back and forth at each other. First they encounter Lucifer’s right-hand man, then Noma was able to remember enough from her time under Lucifer’s control to be able to know he feared an Oracle, before Laurel had confided to Michael about the quiet voice she heard once she was away from Lucifer, and now they happened across a woman in the desert who could make sense of what Noma and Laurel had shared with Michael and Gabriel. It seemed almost too good to be true. Or somehow, part of this revelation that their Father must have left a way for them to bring Him back if He ever was wanted again.

“Do you think this could be it?”, Gabriel asked.

“I don’t believe we have another option, certainly not a better one.”

Michael reached into the glovebox, finding a map of the whole East Coast and passing it back to Rylee. She eagerly took it and grabbed a thin pencil from the little bag she had brought back with her, already charting out a path for them to take based on the road they were currently on. No one talked for a while, letting her have the space and focus to be able to do her work.

“It will take over 30 hours if we drove straight with no stops. Adding refueling, bathroom breaks, and the inevitable unplanned for stops, it’ll take a bit longer. It’s in Chestnut Ridge Park, in Buffalo, New York. It was marked on the map.”

She passed it back up to Michael. He looked over her notes. She seemed to have broken up the trip in 3 hour increments and plotted out the most-direct path from where they sat to where this park was. Three hour increments was not a bad plan, though Michael hated that they could not go straight to it. Alex would need his wounds checked, he and Rylee especially would need to get out to empty their bladders and stretch their legs, while Michael, Gabriel, and Noma did not have such urgent needs, it would be good for them to take turns doing a flyover when they stopped, just to ensure they were alone in the area. Nodding, Michael agreed to the plan and pointed out a couple things to Gabriel, as his twin drove.

“This is a sound plan. We can make the stops you suggested. Perhaps we can find places along the way where we can scavenge or trade for fuel.”

“Good.”, Noma commented before looking over to Alex.

“Alex?”, she asked.

“I’m just glad we’ve got a plan.”

Michael could see that Noma was concerned. Alex’s pallor did nothing to sooth Michael’s nerves either. The vehicle was a bit stifling with the air conditioner nolonger functioning and the heat of the day beginning to make itself known. Looking, Michael spotted that the windows were crank rather than electric, which meant they stood a better chance of still functioning after so long sitting unused in a garage. He proceeded to roll his window down and then heard as Rylee cracked hers enough to create a draft yet not enough to steal all the cold air to herself. Noma leaned and carefully cracked Alex’s a bit further than Rylee’s side, causing more of the air to drift to his area. Michael put the map back in the glovebox as they drove. He did not wish to risk losing it in all this air.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As they reached the first place they planned to stop for the night, being that the headlights on the Jeep were barely working and they did not have enough light to read the map or any remaining signs on the roadside, Alex let out a small groan. Noma and Michael both whipped their heads back to look at him. He held up both hands, a sheepish look on his tired face.

“Sorry. Muscle spasm.”

“We should probably take you out more often, get you moving more.”, Noma said.

“I hate that I’m slowing us down. Michael, do you think you and Gabriel should go on without us? We can meet with you when we’re able to get up there.”

Michael shook his head.

“The Oracle might need to see your markings. Won’t do much good for us to leave you out here, vulnerable or to show up without you.”

He could see this had not done anything to help Alex feel any better. Michael was not sure there would be anything he could say to ease Alex’s guilt.

“Alex?”

The young man looked over to their new recruit.

“Tomorrow, I’ll ride back with the gear. You’ll have more room to move around here in the back seat.”

“Won’t you be uncomfortable back there?”

She grinned.

“I’ve been riding in the backs of old trucks and in vans stripped down to be able to hold as much gear as possible, since I was six. I don’t know how to handle all this time on a cushy seat.”

Michael recognized the offer for what it was. It did not make him any less thankful for her being willing to do this. They got out and began to make camp with their Jeep making up one wall, tarps making the rest. Michael started a small fire to cook up some of the beans Rylee had scavenged and to make up some water for tea.

Gabriel took the first flyover, allowing Noma to stay by Alex’s side a while as Rylee and Michael set up camp. All of them were aware Alex still had to lean on someone a bit as he walked, and Noma was more than willing to be his crutch. While the two walked, Rylee watched them for a moment, unfolding the last tarp to cover the ‘floor’ of their tent.

“She really loves him, doesn’t she?”

Michael glanced up from where he was hanging the kettle over their little fire, to see Noma and Alex walking under the moonlight. In another place and time, the scene might have been romantic. Two lovers taking a moonlit stroll under a star-filled sky.

“She does. More so than one might imagine.”

“I heard something he said. She ripped off a body part for him, by the sounds of it. Looks like whatever it was grew back, but still. Had to have hurt.”

“She tore out her wings.”

Rylee’s head snapped up, a look of fearful disbelief on her face.

“I’ve done it myself. It is… quite painful.”

“And they grew back?”

“After a fashion. Father restored mine, Lucifer fashioned new ones for her.”

Rylee seemed to consider this for a moment.

“When you find this Oracle, does that mean it’ll be time to square off against Lucifer?”

“That is the most likely scenario.”

She nodded as she stood straight. Her head turned to where Noma and Alex were still walking. Michael sometimes wished her could read minds when faced with human women who did not always speak what they thought. He hated waiting.

“Who did you tear your wings off for?”

She looked back at Michael, a thoughtful expression on her pale face that almost glowed in the dim firelight.

“Why do you think I did it for someone?”

She shrugged one shoulder.

“You don’t strike me as someone who generally gets involved that deeply with a cause. You’re somebody who cares more about a specific person or group. Your brother, he’d tear his off for a cause. Besides, the look you and Noma share sometimes, I feel like it’s because you know all too well how she felt.”

Michael let out a long breath.

“Alex. Sort of.”

Rylee tilted her head, her confusion clear.

“He had not yet been born, but I knew the child who would end the War and bring Father back, was soon to arrive. I had to protect that child, whoever it would be and wherever that child would be born. I couldn’t do it as an angel so I tore out my wings and allowed myself to fall from Heaven. I died in my attempt to protect Alex as he lay in his swaddling clothes. When I returned, a final gift from Father, I was once more an arch angel, with my wings intact and all of my hardiness, speed, and power returned to me in full.”

He looked up from the cookfire to see Rylee looking at him with a small, understanding smile. She did view him with awe, as some did, nor was she looking impressed. There was not a trace of hero-worship in her eyes.

“You sound like a dad.”

“Pardon?”

“When you talk about Alex, and everything you’re willing to do or have already done for him, you sound like a dad does. You don’t expect gratitude or his undying loyalty and subservience, only for him to be well and to be happy. No wonder God made sure you got a second bite at the apple.”

Michael’s breath caught in his chest. He had never once considered it in those terms. That his own Father had given him that second chance because He understood what it was to be willing to give up everything for your child, to be a father. Looking back up, he found that Rylee was getting something from the Jeep and had her back turned. Gabriel was still aloft while Noma was bringing Alex back into the camp.

Michael cast a look over Alex. He was thinner, if that was possible, than he had been when Vega first fell. His face a bit drawn and tired, though the color was returning and his shoulders were not so slumped as they had been yesterday. He would take the little signs of recovery he could get from Alex, and be thankful for them.

They sat together and waited for the food and water to heat. Gabriel came down to report they were alone for miles and miles, allowing them some peace as they consumed their beans, jerky, dried fruit, and tea. Noma, Alex, and Rylee soon tucked in for a few hours while Gabriel and Michael offered to stand guard. Neither required as much sleep as the two humans, and Noma had been running herself down caring for Alex as she had and not-sleeping much when they had been in the ravine before they took off in their Jeep. Both sat atop the Jeep, their backs to each other as they kept watch in the night. With the moon and stars, they could easily see for miles. Gabriel probably could have drive in such conditions, but they agreed it was best to allow the car and the two humans to rest, as well as Noma.

“We still have two-thirds of the way to go.”, Gabriel commented.

“Indeed.”

“What do you think the Oracle will tell us? That we must once more undertake a great battle against our fallen brother, for the sake of Heaven and Earth? Or just some simple little dance routine to bring Father back?”

Michael considered.

“Perhaps a combination of the two. Steps to bring Father back, that include permanently dealing with our brother.”

“And Alex?”

“His marks are the key.”

“And what will become of him, when the War is done and Father returned?”

“He can have a normal life, or as near to one as he is able to forge for himself. Get married, have children, grow old with someone. To have a home instead of a shelter, to enjoy the hard-won peace.”

“You think he and Noma will settle and have a family? I don’t recall Father being fond of Nephilim.”

“He might make an exception, for his Chosen One.”

“He never has before.”

“He never left us before, either.”

“True enough.”

“I doubt Noma would have children, even given the option. She has always been a warrior and guardian. Being still and nurturing little ones, I do not see it being the right kind of challenge for her. I could be wrong, however. Alex has brought many changes in her, and this War has changed all that it has touched.”

“What of Rylee?”

“If I can, I would like to help her find her family.”

“You mean if they still live?”

“Yes. For what she has done for us and continues to do, it would be good to return her to her loved ones, to know that she had people helping to watch her back in the years to come. Just because the War ends, it will not mean humanity will go straight to some Utopia.”

Gabriel chuckled darkly.

“No, they’ll likely start a fight over the resources still left. They’ll form factions and have borders they kill each other over. There will be squabbles over how they worship, who has full rights and who doesn’t, where they can live and hunt, or who may travel to where.”

“Most likely. Father created them with flaws, just as he made us less than perfect. We all must endeavor to do our best with what we have and with whatever we face.”

“If only Uriel could hear you now, what a poet-philosopher you’ve become.”

Michael smiled sadly, feeling the clench of his heart at the mention of his beloved sister. They may have disagreed, even fought at times, yet his sister she remained.

“I think she would happy to know that we were fighting on the same side again.”

He felt Gabriel nodding.

“She would.”

They spent the rest of the night in silence at their post. Michael listened, tilting his head to catch the best of Alex, Noma, and Rylee’s heartbeats. Noma’s had the strong, steady beat of a higher angel, with little fluxuation to it. Only when Alex’s would slow a bit did Noma’s do the same, as if fear seized up her heart at the thought of Alex’s leaving her in any way. Rylee’s, the slowest heart of their company, would slow even further in sleep. At times, Michael almost couldn’t hear it over the sounds of the other heartbeats in their group and it would worry him.

Michael cast his eyes to the stars, thinking on Gabriel’s questions. The fate in store for them after they had met with this Oracle, what would become of their three companions sleeping below, of humanity’s response to the end of this cursed War. Michael only hoped they all survived it, particularly Alex. And that in the wake of whatever was to come, that Alex would be able to have a good, long life in peace, after what he had been through and sacrificed in a mission he never asked for.

Somewhere, their Father waited for them to prove they still loved Him, wanted Him, and needed Him. Michael now understood it. Stepping away to allow your child to grow and figure out things for themself while you sat just out of sight and reach, fighting every instinct to go and take care of it all yourself.


	4. All According to the Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex, Noma, Gabriel, Michael, and Rylee make their way to the Oracle in New York State. 8-balls, injuries, snow, and revelations slow them down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Discussions of the Greater Plan/God's plan and the part mere mortals play in it, injuries being stitched up (no graphic detail), fear of ripping stitches in a wound, fighting 8-balls, walking in a deserted park at night.
> 
> Notes: The deaf character will make their appearance, but in this chapter she has an interpreter so I didn't employ the use of Pigeon/Contact English or any detailed descriptions of the Signing.

In the morning, Michael was helping Rylee and Gabriel pack up the camp as Noma took Alex for a short walk. He had needed to work out some cramps in his back, from all the laying and such as he recovered. Michael kept an eye on them as he worked, earning a small smirk from Gabriel.

“Chaperoning, brother?”

“A bit late for that. I jut worry a threat will pop up with Alex in no shape to defend himself.”

Gabriel nodded, aware how that felt. Sometimes, Michael could almost see the memories of David, in his brother’s head.

“Noma will take care of him.”

Michael nodded. Rylee moved over, a tarp folded in her arms from their tent last night. She had changed into a pale blue long-sleeved shirt and sturdier dark brown pants, her holsters and weapons all back in place, a pale green and yellow scarf tied around her neck and head to protect her from the sun, as usual. Her Pops and his comrades had trained her well.

“Give me a couple minutes to get this all tied down in the Jeep, and we’ll be ready to go.”, she said as she took the last couple items from Gabriel and Michael.

“Thank you.”

She nodded to Michael, then walked off. True to her word, she tied everything down and moved to sit back with all the gear, which would allow Alex to take the whole back seat, and Noma could have the middle seat. This meant Gabriel and Michael could easily jump out if they ran into trouble, and defend the Jeep, while Noma could slide into the driver’s seat, Alex could hunker in the middle, and Rylee could shoot out the back windows, if need be. Last night Rylee had assured Gabriel and Michael she was a good enough shot to help protect Alex, if Noma would drive.

Michael could not believe how their former hostess seemed to take it all in stride. Two arch angels, a higher angel, and a random, injured human all showing up at her little campsite with the news of Vega’s fall. Now, she was traveling with them to find the Oracle, whom she had helped them figure out the location of, in an old Jeep. She did not even know Alex was the Chosen One. Or, if she guessed, she never made mention of it. She assumed he was important to three angels and that seemed to be enough.

The five of them loaded, they all resumed their voyage towards Buffalo, New York. To the Oracle. Michael continued to wonder what she might have to say to them.

“Have you guys ever dealt with an oracle before?”, Alex questioned from the back.

Michael shrugged.

“Not since they were still building the Parthenon. They weren’t real oracles, most of the time. Just unfortunate women who breathed bad air or had epileptic seizures.”

Gabriel grunted.

“Or were just crazy.”

“The one was real enough, though she was not Greek and many thought her to be speaking in tongues, when she was simply fluent in several languages. Unusual for a woman in that day, to have such access to education as to be proficient in 10 languages.”

“That was unusual for a man in that day, brother.”

“In nearly any day, actually.”

Noma cut in, “So you’re saying there was at least one real oracle in Greece, back in the day? And you spoke with her?”

Michael nodded.

“She went by the name Aine. She had black hair and the most striking green eyes. She was very short, as I recall.”

Gabriel nodded.

“By her own people’s standards, practically a midget. Beautiful dancer, though.”

“I had forgotten.”

“I didn’t. She used to dance and dance until she entered her trance state where she could see the unseeable and know the unknowable. When she woke up, she would be able to speak of things she could only have known if she had some gift of Foresight.”

“Why did you end up talking to her?”, Alex asked.

Gabriel let out a slow breath.

“We were helping another Chosen One whom Raphael was looking after.”

“Is there always one of you assigned to a Chosen One?”, inquired Alex.

Michael and Gabriel exchanged a look.

“Yes.”, Gabriel answered, “Always a guardian angel for a Chosen One. Sometimes that angel functions more as eyes in the sky, making sure no major threat comes near the Chosen One until it is time for them to do whatever it was they were born to do. Other times, they are much more involved.”

“Like Michael.”

“More so.”, Michael answered, seeing the pain in his brother’s eyes.

Noma reached back, a hand gentle around Alex’s wrist.

“Sometimes, angels have been known to help raise a Chosen One, functioning as a God-parent or much-elder sibling, in the child’s life, until he or she is old enough to go out and attend their calling.”

Alex looked between Gabriel and Michael. He couldn’t read minds and he hardly knew any of their millennia of history. And yet, he could see it. There had been another Chosen One and it seemed it hadn’t gone well for that Chosen One.

Looking back to Noma’s gold-hazel eyes, he smiled with a nod. She nodded back, understanding. He was going to change the subject.

“So, turkey jerky, chicken jerky, or beef jerky today?”

Noma held up a hand.

“I vote beef. I’m tired of turkey.”

Alex nodded, “Same here.”

Looking back, Alex found Rylee dozing in the very back. He wondered if, because she was trying to be helpful with Noma having to look after Alex so much, she didn’t allow herself to sleep too deeply when they were camping. Or if she just slept better in a moving vehicle. He recalled Ethan saying once, that he always slept better in moving cars and trucks, than he did in his bunk. Ethan had blamed living in a traveling caravan before he hit Vega.

“Alex?”

He glanced up to see Noma’s concerned expression.

“Sorry. I was thinking about Ethan.”

She gave his hand a squeeze.

“I think he survived. He was getting sent out to scout a lot lately, he probably wasn’t even inside Vega when it fell.”

Alex nodded. He hoped she was right.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Noma kept her back to Alex as he leaned against the rock they had been resting by when the 8-balls attacked. She used her wings to shield him as much as possible, Alex firing a few shots with his pistol when he could get a bead on one as it dove for them.

Michael glanced to check on Noma and Alex as he ducked the shot from Razvel, one of the higher angels who had recently sided with Lucifer. Razvel had always been a spiteful creature and never liked Michael or Gabriel, but he had been one of the best fighters among his rank and between he and the three 8-balls at his side, Michael was having to work a bit harder against them.

Gabriel and Rylee were on the other side of the Jeep, as they had been about to go scavenge in a nearby town when trouble hit. Michael could hear Gabriel’s blade sing as it sliced the air and crashed against the blade of another higher angel like Razvel. Rylee’s pistol fired twice, then Michael heard what he knew to be a knife driven into a chest cavity as Rylee let out a war cry.

Michael spun backwards, knocking two the 8-balls out of his way as he pivoted and spun low, using one wing to sweep Razvel’s legs out from under him. The remaining 8-ball came at Michael and Michael punched it hard in the center of it’s chest, breaking bones and flattening it as it fell backward.

Turning, he found Razvels trying to get back onto his feet. Michael kicked the higher angel in the side, knocking him backwards, Rezvel’s one short sword falling out of his right hand. Razvel was quick however, and rolled up, still holding his remaining sword to face off against Michael. The two 8-balls came back at him as Razvel dove forward. Michael flicked off one with his wing as he side-stepped Rezvel’s blow. Rezvel’s blade instead became inbedded in the chest of the remaining 8-ball, allowing Michael a clear shot of Rezvel’s back and he sliced down.

Meanwhile, Noma was still working to shield Alex with her gleaming white wings, listening as the 8-balls called her a traitor and worse. Alex, thankfully, was still upright and shooting. Noma had a bowie knife in her left hand and a pistol in her right. She used each in turn to take pieces out of the 8-balls that came close enough.

“Where did they come from?”, Alex panted out.

“Don’t know!”

Another came over the back of the rock Alex was propped against. Noma spun to face Alex, swiping her wing out to knock the 8-ball away from Alex just as she felt a searing pain at her left side. She whipped her wings backwards, knocking out the 8-ball that stabbed her, Alex’s left arm going to hold her closer as he fired over her shoulder at the last 8-ball standing.

“MICHAEL!”, he cried.

Michael launched to Alex’s side, his wings spread. Moving closer, he helped hold Noma up as Alex looked at her wound.

“It’s just a graze.”, she tried to assure them.

“Not with that much blood, Nomes. Come on, lets get you back to the Jeep.”

Michael moved, holding Noma’s elbow as Alex moving along beside them, the adrenaline likely giving him more strength than he really had. They heard one last gunshot before Rylee and Gabriel came running over to them from the Jeep. Gabriel quickly moved to support some of Alex’s weight while Rylee ran back to the Jeep, grabbing for the first-aid kit straight away.

Michael got Noma over to the Jeep, letting her slip down to sit on the sun-warmed ground with her back against the wheel. Gabriel mirrored the action with Alex. Rylee came around to Noma first, but did look up at the three men.

“Anyone else hurt?”

Gabriel shook his head as did Michael. Alex waved her off.

“I’m good. How’s Noma?”

Noma let out a slow breath through her teeth.

“I’m alright, Alex.”

No one appeared to believe her, even before Rylee pulled up the edge of Noma’s tank top, revealing how deeply the 8-ball had cut into her side.

“Hand me a flashlight.”

Michael grabbed a small one, shaking it a few times to power it up, then handed it to Rylee. She checked over Noma’s wound. To her credit, Noma did not scream or squirm, just hissed.

“Doesn’t look like it went deep enough to do any damage except to skin and muscle, I hate to say this, but it is fairly superficial. I am gonna have to stitch this up though.”

She looked up at Noma, “Sorry.”

Noma waved it off.

“If it has to be done. Let’s just make this quick, already lost enough time with the fight.”

Gabriel nodded.

“I’ll fly over to that town, see if they have anything we’ll need, and I’ll be back within the hour.”

Michael nodded, not entirely happy about it but understanding. Alex couldn’t guard Noma and Rylee during the minor surgery, but they were a little low on food and water. Gabriel took off into the air and Michael moved to get the vodka and sewing kit from the back.

From the rear of the vehicle, he could now see what his brother and Rylee had faced. Seven 8-balls lay dead, as well as another higher angel whom Michael recognized as Inniadel. Inniadel had once been one of Michael’s lieutenants in the battle against Lucifer, and many others after.

Michael found the kit and the alcohol, returning to Rylee’s side and setting the equipment out for her. When he looked over, Alex’s pale blue eyes were fixed on Noma’s injury. Michael was sure they would not lose her from this injury though he could see how the close-call had worried Alex. If something were to happen to Noma, it would break Alex, he was sure.

Rylee’s words about his wings and the difference between he and his brother, came to mind. That Michael was more inclined to fight for a person or a group he cared for, than a cause whereas Gabriel could easily fight for a cause. Alex was more like Michael, in that regard. Alex was not a soldier fighting for the Right or the Greater Glory of something. He was a young man willing to lay his life on the line to protect those he cared about most.

Moving back onto the balls of his feet, Michael reached to put a reassuring hand on Alex’s shoulder. Alex looked up at Michael, scared and exhausted. Michael tried to offer an encouraging smile. It probably looked as tired and tight as Alex’s.

“Once Gabriel returns, we should move on.”

Alex nodded. “Yeah, be creepy to camp out here anyway, and we’ve got a couple more hours of daylight once he’s back. No sense to waste ‘em.”

Michael nodded.

“I’ll fly up quickly, take a look around.”

Once Michael was gone, Alex looked back to Noma and Rylee. Reaching, he got ahold of Noma’s left hand and gave it a small squeeze to let her know he was there. She returned the gesture.

Rylee’s dark gray eyes were focused as she worked, having cleaned her hands and tools with the vodka, before moving to clean and stitch up Noma’s wound. He hated that she had been hurt protecting him. She was always getting hurt protecting him.

“Stop blaming yourself, Alex.”, she growled, her eyes closed as Rylee began the process of stitching Noma back together.

“You were hurt protecting me, Nomes.”

“I’d do it again, just the same as you’d do for me, remember?”

He nodded. There was still a scar on his upper left arm from the time he had shielded her when the base was attacked while they were still in training. He had seen the person coming through the tiny window and had dived to push Noma to the ground with his body overtop of hers. Two days later, she had been transferred and Alex didn’t see her again for almost a year. Only much later had he learned it was due to how Michael hadn’t liked how close Noma and Alex had grown.

“I know, Nomes. But… after Lyrae, I just…”, she interrupted, “Feel like it’s too much? Well, it’s not.”

Rylee shook her head.

“Noma, stop moving. Alex, take a nap or be quiet.”

“Sorry.”, Alex muttered.

“I’m just worried I’ll get my stitches crossed if she wiggles much. I’m not the best seamstress.”

Noma smiled tiredly.

“Don’t worry. I’ve had to stitch myself, and that’s pretty bad.”

“What about the feathers?”, asked with a hopeful smile.

“Come again?”, Noma asked.

“You and Michael have both healed with feathers. Burn them and use the dust.”

Rylee looked between the two of them as if they were nuts. Noma shook her head.

“Won’t work anymore on me, Alex. I tried, before, when I was still with Lucifer. My feathers won’t do it anymore and the Prophet told me that was the price for my wings.”

Rylee could see how Alex looked as if he’d been struck. The air went out of him and his eyes went wide.

“I’m sorry, Noma. I… didn’t realize.”

The higher angel gave the young man’s hand another squeeze.

“It’s alright, Alex. Now, you rest. Michael’s got us covered.”

He nodded, still looking rather upset by this new piece of information, while Noma laid her head back and closed her eyes again. Rylee was able to work more easily with Noma still.

An hour later, Gabriel returned and Michael came down to help his twin put away the few usable items he had harvested. Gabriel helped Alex back into the rear-most seat while Michael helped Noma into the middle. Once everyone was situated, they took off for the next leg of their trip.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After slow days of traveling, stopping every three hours or so to allow Alex a chance to move with Rylee helping him and Noma getting to gently stretch her legs and sometimes her wings, they finally reached New York State. Michael opted to trade seats with Rylee, allowing her to read the map for Gabriel while Michael sat in the middle seat with Alex and Noma laid out in the rear seat.

It was late afternoon, the light fading fast. They did not wish to stop and rest the night, unanimously voting to continue on till they reached the Oracle. Alex seemed especially keen. Michael assumed it was to get this war overwith, so that his duties as the Chosen One would be done and he could return to being a normal young man.

“Here, just a bit further forward about two miles and then we’ll need to look for Four Buck road, on our left.”

Gabriel nodded, looking down at the mileage count.

“Do you suppose she’ll be happy to see us?”, Noma asked.

“I figure she may well be standing out on the porch, waiting for us, if she’s such a powerful Oracle.”, Alex grinned back to Noma.

“I hadn’t thought of that. She’ll probably cross her arms and ask what took us so long, or something.”

“Probably.”

Michael smiled slightly, hearing their conversation. They sounded so much like a normal couple of 20-somethings. He could be forgiven for nearly forgetting Noma was millennia old and Alex nearing 30 with a life that would make most age at five times the normal rate.

They drove a while longer, the sun setting as they reached the Chestnut Ridge Park, where the Dragon’s Eye was located. Michael made note of the broken gate at the park’s entrance and how a few of the lights still worked as they had been quality LEDs hooked to solar panels.

“There’s a parking lot over to the right, according to the map out front. Think we should park there and look the rest of the way on foot?”, Rylee asked Gabriel and Michael.

Gabriel nodded, “Perhaps park and camp out the night. Would be easier to find a reclusive oracle in daylight.”

“Easier to find the Dragon’s Eye in the dark.”, Alex countered.

Michael looked between the two. He would feel better looking in the light, considering two in their party were injured, a third was a human accustomed to the dessert rather than the snowy East coast park, with only he and Gabriel to protect them. He also wished to speak to the Oracle as soon as possible. With Lucifer’s legion trailing them, there was no telling how long they had before they were not alone in seeking the Oracle within this park.

“We park, gather ourselves up, and go seek out this Oracle.”, Michael concluded.

Rylee nodded, turning back to watching the signs for the parking area while Gabriel drove in the light of the full moon. The parking lot came up quickly and they took up a spot directly below a still-functioning lamp.

“Noma, how well can you walk?”, Michael asked.

She fixed him with a determined look.

“Well enough, just a little slower than usual. And I can fight.”

Rylee shook her head, “You’ll rip your stitches if you do.”

Gabriel and Michael exchanged a look.

“Michael, you take the rear with Rylee, Alex you stick with Noma in the middle, I’ll go ahead a bit.”, Gabriel ordered.

Rylee loaded up all her usual weapons, then found a sturdy branch that had come down from a tree. She made quick work of the little branches coming from it till she had a walking staff. Michael could tell it was also meant to double as a weapon if need be.

Alex and Noma had put on heavier coats and had gotten some gloves at one of the stops they made to scavenge aways back. Together, the two were able to stay upright and moving, with Rylee walking beside Michael in the rear, his knives strapped on and a pistol tucked into the belt at the small of his back. Gabriel had his sword and had taken a shotgun with the strap over his shoulder. They were as well armed as they could be without weighing themselves down.

“Alex, lean on me if you need.”, Noma told him.

“I was about to tell you the same thing.”, he said with a small, tired smile.

Noma returned the smile, then took Alex’s hand and began following behind Gabriel. Behind them, Michael watched for a moment. Rylee nudged him with her shoulder.

“Young love.”, she whispered with an impish grin.

Michael smiled, despite himself, and fell into step with her as they brought up the rear. Their little company walked a while seeking out the water. Signs, half bleached out from the sun and lack of care over the past 25 years, as well as graffiti art and destruction, made it a bit slower for them.

Soon enough, Gabriel and Michael could hear the water and nolonger needed the signage. Gabriel lead the way for their company, through some wooded area and over a rocky hillside, until they reached what had once been a pretty lookout. A hip-high stone and mortar wall stood around most of a flat, pale gray concrete floor, allowing a great view of the water below.

Gabriel rushed over, looking for their sign. The image they had traveled so far in search of. The Dragon’s eye.

Their group came to the one wall that offered the best view of the water upstream from their location. In the dark, even with the full moon, they knew a bit of fire would stand out. Rylee turned, looking downstream.

“There!”, Gabriel pointed, “There’s our dragon’s eye!”

“And there’s our Oracle.”, Rylee commented almost in a whisper.

They all turned to see a white-haired woman in a long brown coat, thick boots, and a pale blue scarf about her head. She gestured for them to follow her, then turned and walked off, further downstream. The five of them turned, looking at each other, before Rylee walked off.

“Come on.”

Michael reached, catching her wrist.

“How are you so sure she’s our Oracle?”

“Why would anyone else be beckoning us closer? We’re armed and it’s the middle of the night, in an abandoned park.”

Gabriel looked up, shrugging.

“She’s got a point.”

Michael turned back to Rylee. She offered a small smile.

“If I’m wrong, you can say ‘I told you so’, and I won’t get mad.”

That almost made him smile as he let go of her hand and gestured for her to go ahead and follow the ghostly woman in the brown coat. Their little company made their way through the knee-high snow, avoiding getting too close to the edge of the water, as they tracked the Oracle as she wove among the trees.

After nearly half an hour of following her, a small cabin came into sight. It looked as if it might have been pre-dated the American Civil War. Rylee shook her head.

“Dutch built.”

Alex whipped his head to look at her.

“We’re in a deserted, creepy forest, at night, chasing an Oracle, and that’s what you get hooked up on?”

“Hey, they built the best cabins, and despite being 250 years and the apocalypse, they are still standing.”

Alex nodded absently, still muddling along with Noma, the two almost equally leaning on each other at this point. Michael did notice Alex seemed to be feeling the chill far more than the rest of them.

They drew close enough to the little cabin to have read the house number if it had borne one. The Oracle reappeared at the porch, ushering them into the main living space of the cabin. It was warm, with a fire in a pot-belly stove on one end and a bigger fire in an ancient stone fireplace at the opposite end, a bunch of woolen rugs on the floor, heavy cotton curtains over every little window, and a pot of coffee warming over the stove.

Michael looked at the furniture. They had been expected, just as Alex had joked. Two bean bag chairs were near the large stone fireplace, a pair of bar stools were nearer to the pot-belly stove, and a low love seat took up a good deal of the space between the other sets of seats. The Oracle herself moved to one bar stool as she shed her jacket.

There was an awkward silence before she gestured again. Alex, Noma, and Michael exchanged confused looks. Gabriel and Rylee both watched the woman as she gestured. Gabriel seemed to recognize something.

“She’s Signing.”

Michael understood now. She was deaf, mute, or both. Then Rylee stepped forward, passing her walking stick to Michael before she began to gesture back. The Oracle’s movements were smooth and fluid where Rylee’s were a bit stiff and lacking in rhythm. A prima ballerina compared to a yearling.

“I explained to her that I’m not fluent, she says that’s alright- she can write if she needs. She wants to see the Chosen One’s markings.”

Alex stepped forward with Noma’s help, both appearing to sway a little. The Oracle moved forward, helping Alex and Noma into the love seat with some assistance from Rylee. Gabriel shucked his own jacket and shotgun in favor of the bean bag near the larger fireplace. Michael propped a hip on the edge of the spare bar stool. He could see the door and their group from his seat.

“Alex, she’ll need you to roll up the sleeve.”

Alex looked up.

“Yeah.”, he muttered as he slipped off his heavy outer jacket and moved to unbutton his sleeve cuff and take off his glove, pulling back the sleeve to show the pattern in his skin.

The Oracle studied it, her ring and middle fingers trailing some of the markings. Everyone watched in silence, barely daring to breathe.

The Oracle stood, then moved to where a faded journal lay on a small end table, as well as a pencil. She began writing furiously. When she was done, she handed the journal over to Michael with a sad smile.

Reading, Michael’s heart sank. Any hopes he had held that all they would need to do would be to get Alex to a particular location on a certain day or to retrieve some sacred object long forgotten about, were dashed. It would be worse and more dangerous. They had to bring down Lucifer again and the Chosen One had a special role to play in it all.

“What does it say, brother?”

“Yeah, what do we have to do?”, Noma asked.

Michael paused.

“Michael?”, Alex prompted.

Looking up at them, he sighed.

“We have to fight Lucifer and then, once Lucifer has been felled, Alex has to evict all the remaining 8-balls and any Dyads.”

“All of them?”, Alex asked.

“All of them.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The Oracle, whose name was Alyssa, offered for them to stay the rest of the night with her. She said Lucifer and his minions could not find her home that it was hidden from their sight. Noma and Alex slept on a pile of blankets and the bean bags, in front of the large fireplace, with a short pile of blankets over them. Noma insisted Alex sleep closer to the fireplace, as he had been shivering even half an hour after they had come inside.

Gabriel had opted for a spot in the one corner, near the pot-belly stove, resting on a bearskin rug with a heavy wool blanket over him, a light snore here and there proving just how deeply he slept. That, and his slackened heart rate. Michael watched their company, the Oracle herself having tucked into the small bedroom off the pot-belly stove side of the cabin, where she had her own small stove to warm the smaller space.

Rylee had laid out of the loveseat with her heavy jacket over her legs and a thinner blanket laid out over her from her toes to her shoulders, her head resting on the arm of the sofa. Michael was laid out on the floor with his jacket balled up to be a pillow and an old army blanket laid over him to keep him warm. Everyone was sound asleep except for one slightly erratic heartbeat, that gave away it’s host’s wakeful state.

“Why are you still awake?”, Michael asked her in a hushed tone.

“Brain won’t shut up. Why are you still awake?”

“Much the same cause.”

Michael turned his head, as he lay on his back, to watch as she turned from her back onto her left side so she could look back at him. Her dark hair was in a braid over one shoulder, her gloves off, scarf gone, hat removed, and her face showing signs that she was finally starting to lose her chill from the bitter cold outside.

“Worried about Alex?”, she asked.

Michael nodded.

“All four of you, actually.”

She nodded.

“Figured you might.”

He arched an eyebrow. She shrugged a shoulder, a soft look to her smile.

“Your twin, your lieutenant, and your surrogate son. Of course you’re worried.”

“And our guide.”

Her smile widened slightly.

“It was good luck.”

“Do you think that is all it was?”

She shrugged again.

“My mom, she was a Catholic. Born and raised, confirmed and everything. Even the Church’s crappy treatment of her when my father left, didn’t shake her faith. My Pops, he grew up Catholic, old Italian family and all that. My uncles were both Catholics, but they had lost their faith in the wars they fought before the Angels waged war on Humanity. I think I learned a healthy level of skepticism and self-reliance from them.”

“You don’t think it to be some sort of fate, that we met someone who knew just where we needed to go, who knew Sign language enough to communicate with our Oracle, and could read maps to help us, could tend Alex’s wounds and Noma’s?”

She let out a sigh, her eyes drifting to the floor.

“I’m just a lone woman trying to find her family. Your Chosen One is over there. I’m no Biblical figure.”

“For every Biblical figure, there were dozens of people who helped them on one leg or another of their journey, and without their assistance, that Figure would never have gotten so far.”

“Michael, what I mean to say is that I find it too big to think of myself as part of some prophecy. That’s too big a thought for one girl’s head. Especially if she’s fond of sleeping and other normal functions.”

He understood. As much as humans sought answers to the Bigger Plan, wishing to know Father’s overall vision of things, learning even a small part of it often left them reeling.

She tugged her blankets closer to herself as she let out a sigh.

“Are you still cold?”

“A bit. I haven’t been anywhere this cold since I was a teenager. At least, not a damp cold like it is here.”

Michael considered for a moment, before lifting the edge of his blanket just a little in invitation and holding out an arm to pat the space beside him.

“The floor is hard, but it is warm from her fireplaces.”

Rylee smiled.

“You don’t mind?”

He shook his head, “No.”

Rylee moved quietly and carefully, tugging her blankets and her jacket with her, laying her jacket over she and Michael’s legs and feet, then tugging her thin blanket over them, before Michael pulled his heavier, army blanket over them both. She was awkwardly laying on her side, trying to keep a couple inches of space without being far enough away to open the blanket behind her. Unfortunately, that meant a channel of air was going between their bodies, leaving Michael’s right side chilled.

“May I?”, he asked as he indicated he would like to tuck her into his side.

At her confused look, he added, “The air is going down the channel between my side and your front. It can’t be any more comfortable for you than it is me.”

She nodded, a bit of color coming her cheeks as she ducked her head and scooted in closer. Michael helped her move to rest her cheek on his chest, his right arm curling around her back and hers moving over his abdomen before she went stiff.

“Is this alright?”, she asked.

“Yes.”

That settled her a bit, and she was able to relax against his side. She was warmer than he had expected. He heard her heart beat shift, skipping and stuttering a bit as Michael moved his left hand to rest over the arm she had on his stomach.

As they both grew warmer with doubled layers of blankets and their combined body heat, Michael heard her heart return to it’s normal, resting rhythm. He listened intently, cataloguing the pattern. She had a very steady, somewhat slow heartrate that Michael could now recognize to know it from Alex’s or another human’s.

He was nearly lulled to sleep when he felt her stir slightly, adjusting her head with her ear more firmly pressed to his chest. He realized what she was doing. She was listening to his heart. Michael smiled, leaving his eyes shut and his arms wrapped around her, cocooned in their shared warmth.


End file.
